Seeking Resonance
by A Hidden Path
Summary: An AU story that follows Koushiro as his long distance relationship with Mimi begins to falter, then branches out to include the friends who touch his life. It's about people struggling to love, grow, and come into themselves as adults. Making your place in the world is a bittersweet, fumbling journey, and so is finding the one meant to walk beside you.
1. Dissonance

Dissonance

Dissonance, _n_: A lack of harmony among musical notes.

Dissonance. A slight tremor of uncertainty in what was once a pleasing melody.

Izumi Koushiro couldn't say what had caused it, wasn't even sure when it began. All he knew was that something had changed, causing dissatisfaction and unease to infringe on his contentment.

As usual, he was grading papers in his single bedroom apartment. The place was sterile and sparsely furnished. The only area of interest was the desk running along an entire wall in the bedroom. It created enough surface area to house a laptop, a desktop, three monitors, a printer/scanner, and all of his paperwork. There was also an empty space reserved for doing that paperwork. He was bent over that area now, his dark eyes scanning answers from his students.

The cell phone at his elbow began to ring, and Koushiro sighed, lowered his pen, and picked it up. His annoyance at being interrupted abated when he read the name on the screen. He smiled, then raised the phone to his ear.

"Mimi," he said by way of greeting. "How are you?"

A high-pitched, energetic voice called his name from the other line. "Fine, fine. I only have a minute between photo shoots, but it's been so long since I've heard your voice, I just had to call you."

_It has been a while, _Koushiro thought, but he saw no reason to pick at Mimi. They would have even less time together if he annoyed her and she grew defensive. "Where are you now?" he asked, ever curious about where her profession took her.

A breathy sigh met his ears, and Koushiro knew at once that his girlfriend was somewhere she liked. Perhaps Paris, Hawaii, or the Caribbean? "Bora Bora, Koushiro, and it's to _die_ for_._"

Koushiro felt his eyebrows dart up. "As in, the French Polynesia? I saw that island and its resort on a commercial once." If it were anyone but Mimi, Koushiro might have been jealous. He hadn't seen anything but his apartment and the campus where he researched and taught advanced programming in ages.

"Yeah! You would not _believe _it, Kou, it's amazing! They have these tiny condos floating right above a lagoon. I've been walking out onto the patio in back and hopping straight into tropical waters for the last two days. There's even glass panels in the floor, so you can watch the fish from the bed or your couch." A slow, wistful sigh tripped over the line. "It's so _romantic… _If only you could be here, too."

Koushiro's breath caught as he envisioned that scenario. Mimi, wearing nothing but one of her skimpy bikinis, rising out of clear blue waters, smiling in invitation as he helped her back up onto the patio. Completely ignoring those glass panels and fish as he dried her off and followed her to the bed…

"You're picturing it, aren't you." Mimi's pixie-like voice was playful, and contained just a trace of smugness.

"It's rather difficult not to," Koushiro shot back. His embarrassment at being caught in a mushy daydream overrode his typical tact. "I haven't seen you since Yamato-san's and Sora-san's wedding, and that was almost eight months ago, now."

There was a pause, during which Koushiro cursed himself in every language he knew. He didn't mean to blame Mimi for her busy schedule. She was doing what she loved, just as he was, and he was proud of her and happy for her. But, as her popularity and fame in the modeling world skyrocketed, her ability to spend time with him diminished, to the point where they had to snatch at every free moment when they were both awake for phone calls. Long distance relationships were always tricky, he knew, but this was beginning to feel impossible.

"You know I want to see you," Mimi said petulantly. "But I pulled so many strings to get a week off for the wedding…! It will be a little while before I can manage another vacation. Why can't _you _come _here_?"

Koushiro closed his eyes, breathed in deeply, and willed himself to create the patience that he no longer had for this topic. "I have students, Mimi. I have to be present for classes. There's no room for spontaneity in my schedule. That's why I couldn't spend the entire time with you when you were in Japan for the wedding."

He also could have pointed out that the last time he visited her during his PTO, she was so busy working that he spent most of his time touring Germany alone. But he was neither a fool, nor a glutton for punishment, and so he kept that to himself.

There was another, longer pause, and Koushiro rubbed his forehead. _An impasse, as usual. _If things went as they typically did, Mimi would change the subject any moment now, hoping to find some enjoyment in a somewhat bleak situation.

"How are your students?" she asked, and Koushiro frowned at the forced cheerfulness in her tone. "Have you discovered anything new lately?" They were ritualistic questions, and Koushiro found himself answering them automatically.

"The students are fine, although the new group is mostly older than me. As for discoveries, well…" He grinned at the pile of papers on his desk as he described a novel programming function that he had designed, but the long silence on the other end of the line had him trailing off. Mimi tried to show enthusiasm for his work, and Koushiro was glad for that effort. But she had no interest in it, and she lacked the training needed to understand it. Koushiro began to drum his fingers against the desk as he delivered the shortest, simplest version possible.

"Woooow," Mimi said when he finished. "That sounds amazing, Kou. You're so smart." Koushiro swallowed hard, willing himself to take the compliment and shrug off his disappointment at being unable to really explain the topic.

"What have you been up to?" Koushiro asked. And, suddenly, Mimi's voice was full of animation and enthusiasm. She spoke of places, people, parties, makeup lines, clothing… Koushiro quickly grew overwhelmed at the sheer amount of seemingly random information that she was tossing at him. He found himself glancing over his papers as she went on. Her tone suggested that he was intimately familiar with every designer and brand name that she mentioned, but the truth was that he had no idea if they were even discussing clothing or hair products at this point.

Then, her tide of words abated, and Koushiro produced a _hmm _sound to indicate that he was listening. His eyes fell on his closet, sparking a memory. "Ah- Mimi- I wanted to thank you for the clothing you sent me. Everything fits perfectly, as usual."

"Oh!" Pure pleasure filled Mimi's tone, and Koushiro smiled in response. "I'm glad! Did you like all of it?"

"As always, you know my tastes perfectly. And, as always, you spent way too much." Three years of dating Mimi had provided him, somewhat against his will, with enough knowledge to recognize the labels on some of the items she sent him, and to realize that they were frighteningly pricey.

Mimi laughed, a beautiful, enticing sound that had Koushiro pressing the phone closer to his ear. "Oh, Kou," she said fondly, and he could practically picture her trailing a hand delicately through the air. "You silly man. If it suits you, of course I'm going to pick it up for you. If it weren't for me, you'd have five of the same button down shirt in different shades of green and orange, two pairs of slacks, and one pair of shoes. Don't try to deny it; I saw your closet when we started dating."

Koushiro tilted his head and made another _hmm _sound, mostly because he had no way of defending himself. This had Mimi laughing again. Another pause formed, and Koushiro cast about for a topic. It was difficult to keep a conversation moving three years into a long distance relationship. When talking was your only available activity, you began to wear out your resources.

"How's Eimi-chan?" Mimi asked, and Koushiro twitched so hard that he dropped the pen he was fiddling with.

"Actually… I've been meaning to call Jyou or Takeru-san and ask about her." He frowned at his monitors, as if they were the cause of his sudden worry and hurt.

"Koushiro! You sound so serious, all of a sudden! Is something wrong?" Mimi's voice went even higher than usual, and Koushiro grimaced as her tone went sharp.

"I don't know, Mimi. That's the problem. Before the wedding, Eimi-chan and I were in frequent contact, as you know."

"Of course," Mimi said impatiently. "Ever since you moved to your current university, Eimi-chan's the only friend you can meet up with regularly. I _worry _about you, you know, being so withdrawn. If not for her, you'd only ever go to the campus." Koushiro grinned ruefully. The two of them were polar opposites when it came to their social tendencies. He liked to be alone, and enjoyed filling his time with mental puzzles. Mimi, however, spent almost every waking moment in the middle of a flutter of social activity, whether she was at a party, a photo shoot, or on a runway. "You know I love her for that. Is she alright?"

"I don't know," Koushiro repeated heavily. "I feel like she's been avoiding me since the wedding. At first, I thought I was imagining it, so I didn't say anything. Our phone calls grew brief, until she stopped returning them entirely." His hands tightened around the edge of his desk. "I visited her website, and… So much has been happening in her professional life."

"Well, maybe it's just that," Mimi said, her tone brightening. "She has been on tour. I met up with her in Paris, remember? And she's never done much traveling before, right? Maybe she's just been busy running around Europe."

"It is true that she was on tour for a few months, but it seems that she's been back in Japan for a while. I checked her website the other day, and I found that _five _local performances have passed since she returned, and she didn't invite me to a single one. And then…"

Sighing, Koushiro pushed off against the floor with his feet, rolling himself towards the speaker at the corner of his desk. An MP3 player was sitting on top of it, and he picked it up, selected a song, and hooked the device into the speaker.

A sweet, lilting voice filled the room, along with the accompaniment of a soulful acoustic guitar. Koushiro closed his eyes and breathed in. People called him stoic, and that was probably accurate. But still, even he reacted to Eimi's singing.

"Oh…!" Mimi gasped, then went quiet for a moment. "That's beautiful, but… I don't think I've heard that song."

"No," Koushiro muttered, rolling his way back to his working space. "That's because it's from her fourth album. It released two weeks ago."

There was a long, uncomfortable pause. "But… She talked about the release of her third CD for weeks, didn't she? And she invited you to the release party."

"Mm." Despite his strain, the corner of Koushiro's mouth twitched upward at the memory. Eimi had spent most of that party hiding on a balcony with him, bent over a chessboard. She didn't win a single game, but she kept playing without complaint, and she challenged him with a few cunning strategies.

"What is this about? Did you two have a fight, or something?!" Mimi demanded.

"No. I have no idea why she's suddenly cut me off. I've considered talking to Jyou about it, but…" Koushiro sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to soothe discomfort that wasn't quite physical. "He has a lot on his plate. The last thing he needs is another source of worry."

A few faint clicks sounded over the phone. That was Mimi, flicking her tongue as she thought. Koushiro managed half a smile as he imaged her expression, her head tilted to the side, her eyes averted and unfocused, her brow pressed petulantly down.

"Well," she said at last, "what's to stop you from just showing up at her door and finding out that way?"

"Uninvited?" Koushiro asked, propping his elbows on his desk for support. "That's hardly considerate."

"Well, neither is treating a friend like a stranger!" A rough, shrill tone entered Mimi's voice, and Koushiro pulled the phone back. Her breathing went a little labored, but quickly slowed back down.

"And what if something's wrong with her? Or maybe she just forgot that you care, Kou. I love you up and down, you know I do, but you're not the best at letting people know how you feel."

Koushiro's fingers rose to his chin at that suggestion, trailing hesitantly over his jaw. While he had probably never communicated any affection for Eimi, they got along well. It seemed unlikely that her withdrawal could be due to a perceived lack of interest in continuing their friendship. However, the possibility had soothed his girlfriend, so he wouldn't voice his doubts. The last thing he needed was to give Mimi a reason to seethe right before a photo shoot.

Mimi called his name, possibly because the silence had drawn out too long, but the sound broke off abruptly. Tension instantly formed in Koushiro's gut. He was fairly sure he knew what was coming next.

And, sure enough, there was a short pause followed by a long sigh. "I have to go, Koushiro. The photographer's going to be here soon, and my assistant wants to go over some things with me."

Something seemed to be sinking inside of Koushiro's stomach, but he forced his tone to remain light. "I see. Have fun, Mimi. I enjoyed hearing from you."

"Koushiro… I miss you."

He cleared the lump from his throat, then returned the sentiment.

**Author's Notes:**

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Digimon. This is a nonprofit fanwork.

**SHOUT OUT AND DEDICATION: **This story takes some inspiration from Aveza's story, Plus One. Plus One is my favorite fanfic, guys, it's literally the best one I've ever read. You have to go read it. While Seeking Resonance and Plus One aren't actually affiliated, there is definitely some overlap, because Aveza is patient with my insanity, and there will be some stuff from Plus One informing Seeking Resonance. Also, you guys probably don't know this, but I seriously considered scrapping this fic at about the 12,000 word point. Aveza convinced me to keep going. So, and hopefully this isn't arrogant or weird, but this one is dedicated to Aveza, for helping to inspire the story, and for being an awesome and patient cheer leader when I indulge in doubt fests. Thank you!

**IMPORTANT: **Yes, there is Koumi in this story. However, if you can't stand seeing Mimi and Koushiro in couplings besides Koumi, please leave now. Let us part peacefully, as friends XD There will absolutely be other couplings involving both characters in this story. Also, full disclosure, there are two original characters in this story, and one is a main character. If any of you read my other fics, you already know Anami Eimi.

This story is a meandering thing that alternates between the present storyline and the past, so sometimes we'll see what is currently happening, and sometimes we will see what lead to it, or what will lead to other scenes, going as far back as six years ago. I won't ever mix past and present in one chapter (and note that some chapters will be broken into separate updates), and I will clearly mark how far back each past scene is, to make things easier on you guys. Also, everyone is full grown, with most of the characters in their late twenties and early thirties, at least during the present.

Anyway, this is a simple story about maturing and learning and finding yourself through the little triumphs and heartaches of everyday adult life. It's a bittersweet, wandering affair, and I really hope you enjoy it! It will be ten chapters long (but will be delivered in more than ten updates), and will run 70-90K words in length.

In the future, I won't be leaving author's notes, except to explain some Japanese culture aspects, as needed. From now on, I will update my fics once a week, on Sunday. On weeks where I've written enough to update Four Years or Growing Up with You, I will update those. Whenever I can't update those, I will update this story. When this story ends, I will start working on Insurgence again.

Please enjoy Seeking Resonance :)


	2. Bridge, Pt 1

Bridge, Part One

**Cultural Notes:**

**Bathing:** Bathing in Japan is not the same as bathing in the states. In a Japanese home, the bath and toilet are usually in different rooms, so the toilet can be accessed when the bath is in use. In the bathroom, there is usually a front area with laundry appliances. This area is separated from the rest of the room, often with a screen, so that people can get to the laundry without bothering whoever is using the bath. You strip, put your clothes right there with the laundry, then go to the other side of the screen. The bathing area consists of a tub and a separate spot for cleaning your body. There is a low stool next to a spigot. You sit on the stool, fill a bucket with water from the spigot, and clean your body while you sit there. There is a drain near the stool, so you can do all of your hair and body washing right there. Once you are completely clean, you get in the tub and soak, just to relax. The bath is filled with water once per night. Everyone in the family shares the same water, which is why you clean your body beforehand. Usually, there is privilege involved in the bathing order, with the father bathing first, then the mother, then the oldest child, and so on.

**Marriage laws: **The marriage of first cousins is legally permissible in Japan, so if anyone ever makes a comment about Taichi and Eimi as a potential couple, this would be why (this suggestion would be unpalatable to the two of them, though).

**Three years of high school: **Japanese high school is made up of three years, unlike the four year system we have in the states. However, each school year has an average of 60 more school days than the average American high school year. Also, Japanese students don't have a three month long summer break in between school years. Instead, they have a few shorter breaks built into the school year.

**Author's Notes:**

Just to be completely clear, this segment takes place **six years before** the events of last chapter. This story does a lot of alternating between past and present. Last chapter was a 'present' chapter, and this one is a 'past' chapter. The next 'present' chapter, chapter three, will pick up where chapter one left off.

Bridge, _n_: A unique passage that comes between and connects two distinct sections of a song.

**Six Years Ago**

The sound of the front door's lock being violently worked was audible in the bedroom, and Eimi startled, dropping the dress she was laying out. The anxiety was short lived, as the din of the front door being thrown against the stopper was familiar enough to identify the intruder. Shaking her head, Eimi bent to retrieve the dress, trying to steel herself for this encounter.

Footsteps shook the tiny apartment, coming nearer at a breakneck pace, but Eimi went right on packing. She even managed a blissful humming sound, both to soothe herself and to annoy her guest. The repetitive _thmp thmp thmp thmp_ came to a halt a yard behind her, and there was a vibrating sensation, suggesting that the walls had been assaulted. Heavy breathing filled the room.

"Afternoon, my darling Taichi." Eimi turned around as she spoke, gracing her cousin with the calmest, sweetest smile she could manage. Her lips twitched upward with genuine amusement when she saw him, doubled over and panting, grasping either side of the door frame with large, trembling hands.

"Don't- afternoon- me," he managed, wiping the sweat from his brow. Eimi stared at him for a moment, then dropped the dress onto her bed with its fellows. She moved to the doorway, nudging Taichi aside to get through. Her hand closed around his wrist, and she hauled him towards the bath.

The fact that she could drag him was troubling. Although Taichi had become an ambassador, of all things, he was still a talented athlete. "Just how far did you run to get here?" she demanded. _And in one of your incredibly expensive suits, at that?_ For a moment, the mental image of him running full out amused her, easing some of her anxiety. His blazer and tie flapped behind him like flags as he ran, half doubled over like a speed skater, nearly impaling passing pedestrians with his briefcase. She added a gaping child to the scene, staring at her cousin with a forgotten ice cream cone suspended in front of his mouth.

"Work," Taichi gasped. In her surprise, Eimi missed a step and nearly fell. Taichi grabbed her around the middle and held her up, groaning with the effort. He was gross, all overheated, sweaty, and producing more ambient moisture than a humidifier, but Eimi clung to him anyway.

As soon as she was steady, she pried him off and continued their march. "Work?! Taichi, that's _insane_. It's like a thousand degrees outside, and that's almost a two mile run!"

"Run that everyday," Taichi grunted, and Amy tsked with annoyance.

"At dawn or dusk. In running gear. Did you wear your dress shoes? Stars, your feet are going to be torn up. You're such a..." Taichi snarled, drawing Eimi's glance to his face. His eyes narrowed, daring her to complete her sentence. Something in Eimi wanted to push, wanted to tell him exactly what she was thinking, but she was in the habit of capitulating to Taichi. Besides, she knew why he had punished himself to get here so quickly, and that decided her.

"You could have taken a cab," she pointed out. "It's totally a thing that people do." His eyes widened, and then he snorted and looked away. Taichi had enough money to pay for a lift, but he was a physical creature. Relying on his body was the first instinct in the face of difficulties.

Sighing, Eimi directed him down the remaining bit of hallway, then led him into the bath. Her fingers rose to his tie, undoing the knot at his throat. Taichi produced a grunt that sounded more like a growl, then extracted her hands from his clothing. He moved to the other side of the screen separating the bath's entryway and laundry appliances from the bathing area, then began to strip, hanging the discarded items over the edge.

"I'll get you some water," Eimi said, suddenly feeling sheepish. Taichi's anger and discomfort made her feel guilty, as she was the source of both. Sighing, she trotted out of the bath and into the kitchen, poured water from a filter pitcher in the fridge into a glass, and returned.

Taichi must have seen her shadow dithering through the screen, because he raised his voice over the sounds of running water. "Just reach over and leave it on my side," he ordered, completely neglecting the niceties of please and thank you. It should have struck her as rudeness, but Taichi didn't bother with such things outside of work, especially with friends and family.

Eimi obeyed him, then began fussing with his clothing, looking for the cleaning information. "Don't bother. It's all dry-clean only."

"Wow, really? It's kind of hard to imagine you stepping inside a dry cleaner's." Taichi had spent his youth almost constantly grungy, a result of his love of physical activity and lack of interest in fashion and primping.

Taichi produced another unimpressed grunt. _Oh, dear. It's a snarly day. This isn't going to be pleasant..._

"It comes with the job. Damn it, I've already got blisters forming on my feet..."

Eimi shifted guiltily, despite the fact that running here in formal footwear was her cousin's stupid decision. She wanted to offer to scrub his back in penance, but that was probably too intimate a suggestion, despite her lack of sexual interest. Her mind cast about for some way to offer him kindness, and it settled on food. Men were always hungry, especially athletes, and Taichi ate most of his meals out. Having a home cooked dinner might be a nice change for him.

With that decided, she moved away from the screen. "Where are you going?" Taichi asked, and Eimi froze in front of the dryer.

"I'm going to start dinner. If you'd like, you can draw the bath and relax while I cook. Is there something in particular you'd like to eat?"

There was a long pause, filled with the sound of Taichi rubbing a washcloth against the unscented soap that Eimi kept for male visitors. "I wasn't planning on soaking."

"Well, if you're getting clean, anyway... Why clean yourself a second time, later? You can stay the night, if you want. I have pajamas and another suit for you." It didn't escape Eimi's notice that Taichi had made no objection to being fed.

The room went completely silent, and then there was a long, winding sigh. "Just... Just tell me, Eimi. What Hikari told me- is it true?"

Eimi's hands formed tight fists, wrinkling the fabric of her summer dress. "That depends on what she told you." She really didn't know why she was stalling. There was only one thing Taichi could have heard that could cause him to drop everything and literally run to her in the middle of a heat wave. Staving off this discussion for a few more seconds would make no difference in the long run.

"Damn it, Eimi," Taichi muttered. His shadow hunched over on the screen, cradling his face in his hands. "Hikari called me a little while ago. Apparently, you told Takeru that you're _moving_- _Takeru, _not _me_- and he told her. And then I come here, and you're sorting through your clothes…! What the hell are you _thinking,_ Eimi?!"

_TK, you bloody little traitor. I will give you so much woe to write about for this. _She didn't even know where to start with her reply. There was so much hurt and frustration in Taichi's tone, and also something that disturbed her to the core. It took a few seconds for Eimi to identify it as fear, an emotion that Taichi so rarely displayed.

"Can't we… Can't we discuss this over dinner?" There was a pleading, whining tone to Eimi's voice, and she despised it. Taichi wasn't the world's most observant guy, but he could sense when an opponent's resolve was weakening. Soon, he would pounce, tearing the remnants of resistance apart, like a lion feasting on twitching, bleeding prey.

Taichi's body straightened, and his face turned towards the screen. "I want steak. Rare."

A shiver rippled over Eimi's body. Taichi's tone was far too predatory for her liking.

**A While Later**

Taichi wandered down the hall towards the kitchen, his body warm with the lingering heat of water. He had slipped out of the bath and found sweatpants, underwear, and a cotton tee shirt on top of the dryer. It was a not-so-subtle invitation to stay the night. If he wanted to leave, it was up to him to ask for the suit he kept in the back of Eimi's closet.

_She's always playing these games, _Taichi thought savagely. _I wonder if she even realizes it. She probably just thinks she's avoiding confrontation, or some bullshit like that. And that's why she can't go moving. God, she can't even ask me a question to my face…!_

He ended up making a snarly face at the tiny table in the corner of the kitchen, despite the fact that it was covered with food prepared for him. Eimi flinched at his expression, nearly dropping the cutlery that she was laying out beside the plates. _Oh, damn it. Nice, Taichi. Well done. Scare the crap out of her, why don't you._

Of course, Taichi knew that Eimi never feared him. He startled her frequently, yes. That was hard to avoid, given that he was loud, impulsive, and boisterous, and she was meek, gentle, and neurotic. But her trust in him was such that she would never fear him. _Still, I've probably freaked her the hell out by now. _

His thoughts derailed when he got a good look at the steak. There was a dot of red in the middle of one of them. Drool immediately formed in Taichi's mouth. He knew that, when he plunged a knife into the flesh, it would break apart, revealing more of that appetizing, tender hue. "Oh, my fucking God," he breathed, throwing himself into one of the four chairs waiting around the table. "I love you, Eimi. Whenever Yamato makes meat, he overcooks the damn stuff, then acts all superior when I point out that he's fucked up a perfectly good cow. 'You'll get sick,' he says. Pansy-ass pretty boy."

Eimi snorted, covering her mouth and nose with her hand to shield the food. "Ohhh, Taichi. He likes to give you a hard time, you know that. It's what best friends are for. I bet that, in the future, if you help with the meal, you'll find that your meat magically gets done the way you like it."

Taichi frowned at her as she came to his side, carrying the beer he preferred for social drinking. She placed it by his plate with a gentle clink. "You know I can't cook worth a damn." Some beer spilled as he opened it, and he growled an obscenity.

"True," she said, taking the seat opposite him. "But you're perfectly capable of clearing a table and cleaning a kitchen after a meal." An arched brow rose at him, then waggled once, inviting him to disagree.

"If you want me to help you clean up, just tell me," he countered grumpily. Eimi sighed and began cutting her meat.

"This is why you're single, prince charming."

"Ha!" Taichi cut off a piece of meat, then popped it into his mouth. His eyes closed as he savored the primal, rich taste of rare steak. Juices flooded everywhere, swelling through at the corners of his lips. "Mmm…" He wiped his face, offered Eimi a smile of genuine pleasure and gratitude, then dove right back into the argument.

"I love being single," he said heartily. "No one to tie me down. License to roam the world. Great sex with the women I find there." He took another bite, not noticing the sudden fierceness with which he was cutting his steak. "Hell, _you're _more single than I am. Have you even dated anyone since that dweeb in college?"

Eimi's brow lowered, as if she was trying to give him an annoyed look, but she was smiling. "Ahhh, he is a dweeb," she said, her voice going thick with affection. "I haven't called him in a while… He'll be worried. I should do that."

Taichi shuddered. "This 'be friends with your ex' thing gives me the creeps. Let's not go there." He peered over at Eimi, then noticed that her steak was less than half the size of his, and that she had taken fewer side dishes, as well.

He frowned at the plate. "Eimi. You need to eat more than that." She blinked at him, then shook her head.

"I can't handle large amounts of red meat. It turns my stomach. Besides, I'm still on a diet."

"You've already lost a lot of weight," Taichi pointed out. "Don't overdo it."

"Well, you know," Eimi said, shrugging uncomfortably. "I'm on CD covers now. And I've been making TV appearances… You look heavier on TV. My producer wants me to lose weight, and I thought, well, I've always meant to, anyway…"

"Hey. I keep telling you this. Look at me." Taichi waited, with a predator's patience, for Eimi's eyes to shift to his. "No one tells you what to do, Eimi. If you want to lose weight, fine, okay. Just do me a favor and check in with me, so we can both be sure that you're not doing anything unhealthy. But don't let someone else pressure you into it." He speared another piece of meat with his fork. "You look fine."

There was a long silence, and Taichi realized that saying 'you're fine' wasn't the best way to make a woman feel good about herself. He was trying to think of a way to enhance his words when Eimi's voice caught his attention.

"Taichi. I'm moving out of the city in a few months."

There was a grating squeal as Taichi's fork slid across his plate. "_Why?_" he demanded, setting the cutlery down. They suddenly felt far too much like weapons.

Eimi folded her hands neatly in her lap, then arched a brow at him again. "Because I want to."

Irritation ripped through Taichi, and he began to drum his fingers against the glass table, vibrating the entire surface. "_Why?_" he repeated. "You have everything you need right here. There's Hikari, who looks up to you, who listens to you, even when she's being stubborn with me. There's Takeru, your best friend, unless you've forgotten about that. There's Yamato and Sora and my parents… Pretty much everyone in your life, except for your ex." _And there's me, too, _something buried in him whispered. But he wasn't about to say that out loud.

Eimi reached across the table, settling her hand on his. Her skin seemed blindingly white against his tan. Smooth, unblemished skin, not a single vein or tendon popping up from below the surface… Delicate, tender, soft, familiar hands, hands that had always reached out to him in times of need. Taichi's wrist twitched, and his palm was suddenly against hers, and his finger were closed around hers with more strength than intended.

"Taichi," she began, leaning closer, "you're trotting around the world eighty percent of the time. If you can do that, then I can move. I'm not moving more than a few hours away from here. It's not going to make a difference, especially if you're in Kenya."

Taichi swallowed hard, placed his other hand over Eimi's, then pulled her knuckles to his chin. His eyes bore into hers, trying to communicate his disapproval and worry without words. Eimi was the better arguer. She could take anything he said and make it sound unreasonable. He had passion, volume, and intimidation, but she had logic, earnestness, and a sweet, natural charm that made people of lesser resolve want to give in to her wishes.

_I want you to be safe. I want to be able to tell Hikari, Takeru, Yamato, or Sora to stop by and check on you if I get worried while I'm away. I want to send you to check on Hikari when I get worried about her. I'm afraid you'll be lonely without us. We're all you have. I love you._ Silent communication was as forthcoming as Taichi could be on the subject. He hated mushy stuff, and he'd probably get tongue tied and say something defensively insulting if he even tried to express himself.

"Taichi…" Her expression softened, and something ached in Taichi's chest. _Thank God._ She understood him, somehow, and soon she'd be looking away and giving up on this crazy moving thing. Her fingers closed around his hand like a tiny embrace.

"I'll be careful," she said, meeting his glance calmly. "I'll keep in touch with everyone. You don't have to worry about me. I'm twenty-five years old. I can take care of myself. This is what I want, Taichi."

Taichi's hands flinched around hers. "What's wrong with here?" he demanded. "You never said you had a problem with here!"

Eimi sighed and slipped out of his grasp, then balanced her elbows on the table and ran her fingertips along her temples. "Taichi… I lived in Odaiba until I went to high school. I never liked it. The crowds, the smog, the lack of living, green things… Always with the noise and chatter and cars and, and-" She broke off for a moment, then tilted her head down, blocking her expression from view. "And now, walking by the apartment complex where I grew up… I just… I don't want to be here anymore, Taichi. Odaiba is a nice place. I know that. But, when I went to live with our grandmother in the country after middle school…" She hesitated, then tipped her head to the side. Her eyes were closed.

She hadn't moved an inch, but Taichi could feel the sudden distance between the two of them. It was almost physical, like an invisible barrier he could press his hands against. Her diaphragm expanded with a slow, deep breath that began from her nose, suggesting that she was tasting and smelling country air.

Takeru sometimes said that Eimi was like a… What was the pretentious, brainy word he used? Sylph? Taichi's mind struggled over the question half-heartedly, than gave it up as unimportant. He had scoffed the notion, partly because he liked to give the kid a hard time, and partly because he saw Eimi as the sweet, impossibly loyal, hapless child he had known growing up. But now…

Her dark brown eyes opened, then stared, unfocused, at something beyond him. Her voice took on a lilting, melodic tone that evoked the singing of an ancient hymn. It transfixed him, and he could neither speak nor move.

"I could breathe, Taichi. For the first time in my life, my voice rose from within me, and there was no one to stop me from listening. It was quiet and scared, but there was so much potential there, so much longing for space and sunlight and soaking rain. By the end of those three years, it had started to grow into what I wanted it to be."

Her eyes snapped jarringly back into focus, and her teeth began to nibble her lower lip. There was a clinking sound as her hands darted clumsily over the table, knocking her fork onto the glass. It was obvious that she had shifted into full-on nerves, and, as was often the case, Taichi was unable to make sense of her changing moods.

"If being in the country meant that much to you, then why did you come back to Odaiba after high school? And why haven't you ever said anything like this to anyone before?" A sudden sting of hurt invaded his confusion and unease. "Unless you told Takeru," he spat, staring accusingly at his mound of mashed potatoes. It was still untouched, as he always ate the meat first.

Eimi sighed and lifted her eyes to the ceiling in a bemoaning sort of way, as if the plaster could sympathize with her. And, suddenly, Taichi understood. Eimi had foreseen and feared those exact two questions the moment she finished speaking. _You think you're so damn smart. _Taichi ignored the follow up thought, which pointed out that Eimi didn't find herself especially intelligent, despite the fact that she was.

"I did tell Takeru," she said at last, still staring at the ceiling.

Something in Taichi swelled victoriously at her admission, even as hurt dug at his heart, honing his temper to a cruel edge. "What, did you think I was too stupid to follow your stupid nature metaphors?" he snapped, failing to notice his inability to come up with two separate words for 'stupid.' Eimi's eyes fluttered shut, and she took a deep breath. Taichi wasn't sure if she was searching for patience or strength.

Then he noticed the faint trembling of her lips.

"I told Takeru about my life in the country because he asked me about it, Taichi."

A flabbergasted sound popped out of Taichi. He couldn't have been more shocked, not if she had reached over the table and decked him in the face. And, in truth, he would have preferred that. A lifetime of charging headfirst into everything had gifted him with a high tolerance for physical pain, but, at age twenty-five, he was still uncomfortable with emotional stuff.

_Defend. _The urge was intrinsic, instinctive, impossible to ignore. Taichi's palms slammed the table, causing tremors to run down the intricately carved driftwood supporting it. "Don't- Why would you- I cared about you, damn it! I called you! I _missed _you! Do you think I didn't want you around?! I understood why you had to get away from your parents, so I didn't say anything, but, but-" _But it was like something inside of me was gone. _

He couldn't finish the thought verbally, and the words hung, incomplete and impotent, in the air between them. While he sat there, uncharacteristically still and silent, his mind churned through what he wanted to say, trying and failing to offer up a cohesive explanation. Instead, he saw a series of disjointed mental pictures, outlining the drama and excitement of his high school years.

Although they spent high school apart, Taichi had wanted to share his experience with Eimi as much as he could. And so, when he called her, he delivered rambling monologues about himself. He told her _everything_: about his soccer team, about becoming captain, about his first girlfriend, about Koushiro, the boy genius who somehow became a second right-hand man, about having his heart broken, about his jealousy over the success of Yamato's band and the whirlwind of female attention that swallowed the bassist whole, about wondering if he was still a good role model and protector for his sister, about studying for college and questioning if his stupid ass could even get in anywhere…

Eimi listened, with calm and interest, and offered sympathy and advice as needed. Her voice was a lifeline, speaking softly and sweetly from miles away, and Taichi had taken advantage of it at every opportunity. But, try as he might, he just wasn't able to pull her through the receiver, pin an arm around her shoulder, and take her with him.

It was just now occurring to him that she might have had her own thing going on in his absence.

_Idiot. Asshole! What, did you think she just put everything on pause until you graduated, showed up at Grandma's, and dragged her back into the city? _And that thought had him stuttering, because he suddenly understood why she came back. Although there was no argument, no real signs of resistance, he had forced her. She was still so meek back then that he hadn't even noticed what he was doing. He just assumed that his agenda was hers.

His palms slid down the glass, leaving unsightly streaks. And Eimi, damn her, didn't say a word through his mental upheaval. She was eating her damn steak, cutting off pieces so small that Taichi probably wouldn't have been able to taste them, her cheeks ticking like a chipmunk's as she chewed. The sight of someone eating was repulsive, since he could feel his own food trying to slide back up.

_All this time, I thought I was your defender. I thought you needed me. _Taichi's hands closed around the curved edge of the table, and it made a keening sound, probably due to the sudden moisture of his skin and the force he was exerting. _But, really…_

No matter how far away he went, Taichi always had the comfort of knowing that Eimi was standing by at home, ready to welcome him back with open arms, willing to sit with him, just sit. With his mother, it was always an endless stream of questions, mostly circling around his love life. That topic got a little sticky when the best you could say was, "Yeah mom, I fucked a totally hot woman while I was in London, but, ah, what was her name, again?" His father wanted to hear about work, which, while preferable to the subject of romance, was still the last thing he wanted to think about while he was at home. Hikari was the best person to be around, but they sometimes ended up at odds, as Taichi's concerns for her future caused arguments between them.

But Eimi was willing to just sit with him and talk about nothing, or to not talk at all. She welcomed him home with open arms, an open heart, and no expectations, ready to be whatever the hell he needed her to be.

_She's not your damned accessory, Taichi. God. God. What have I done to her? _He lifted his eyes from his plate, meeting hers, and she forced a bright smile, tipping her head in invitation. _God fucking damn it! Even now, she's trying to find some way to make us both happy._

Taichi had to clear his throat before he could speak, as it had gone strangely tight. "Ah, where exactly were you thinking of moving?" he asked. His voice didn't sound quite like his own; it was higher, less authoritative, quieter. "Are you going to build your own place, or buy one?"

Eimi's eyes went wide, and her hand jerked, nearly upsetting her glass of water. Taichi felt his lips turning back into a grimace. If Eimi asked about his sudden change of heart, well, he didn't know what the hell he was going to say. Not the truth, that was for damn sure.

"I, I… Sales of my first album were good, so… I was going to have it built just the way I want it."

"Yeah?" Taichi grinned, but he could feel the tightness of his facial muscles, the desolation in his eyes. "I bet you'll give the architect hell."

"And the gardener. And the interior decorator." Eimi was smiling, but there was a sudden moistness and illumination to her eyes. Without a word, she slid her plate closer to him and stood, taking one of the seats beside him, abandoning the one across from him.

Taichi swallowed the lump in his throat, grabbed her seat, pulled it closer, and draped an arm around her shoulders. He ate the rest of his meal one-handed, no longer tasting anything.

There were deep reserves of undiluted bravery deep within Taichi. He usually found little reason to tap into them, as there were few major conflicts in his life. But now, he was searching for them, tossing buckets into wells and praying for the splash to follow.

Somehow, he had to dig up the courage to let her go.

**Author's Note: **Those of you who have read my other stories are probably familiar with Taichi's protective, somewhat restrictive feelings towards Eimi, who is a cousin that he views an an odd sister/one-of-the-guys combo. One moment, he'll be telling her she can't handle something, and the next, he'll come to her for help and advice. This is sort of the turning point in their relationship in this story, where things start to become more equal and healthy between them. I'm unhappy with the block of exposition towards the end of the update, but I ended up summarizing a lot of things, because Taichi and Eimi's relationship isn't the focus of the story, although it is an interesting add on.

The next update will be part two of Bridge, where Yamato drives Sora, Hikari, and Takeru to the country to see Eimi's new house. The next story to be updated will probably be Growing Up with You, though, so it may be two weeks before this fic is updated. After Bridge ends, the story will return to the present, and we'll be all up in Koushiro's business again, as he goes to visit Eimi and find out what the heck is going on with her.


	3. Bridge, Pt 2

Bridge, Part Two

**Cultural notes:**

**Travel in Japan:** In cars in Japan, the driver sits on the right side of the car, not the left, as in the states. Also, it's somewhat uncommon for city dwellers to even have a car. The public transportation is very good, and there's just too much road congestion (in Tokyo, it's like New York city, where no one drives, and yet the roads are always clogged).

**Rural Japan: **As in New York City, Tokyo has very few houses. It's mostly apartments. However, if you go to less populated areas, you will begin to encounter houses. I have no idea if there is really such a rural area within a three hour drive of Odaiba. Sorry! While I've put some time into researching Odaiba for the sake of my fanfics, I don't feel like scouring the map for an acceptable location for Eimi to move to, especially since it would also need to be within an hour of a particular type of university. So, she lives in an unspecified, made-up area. Huzzah!

**Ikebana:** The Japanese art of flower arrangement.

**Eimi-nee: **Eimi is neither Takeru nor Hikari's older sister. They don't call her Onee-chan, as they would if she were their sister. However, they both grew up spending a lot of time around her, so they've given her a similar nickname, meaning roughly the same thing. It's just slightly removed from the actual title of 'older sister.'

**2,000 yen**: About twenty USD.

**Moshi-moshi:** A Japanese phrase used as a greeting when answering the phone.

Bridge, _n_: A unique passage that comes between and connects two distinct sections of a song.

**Five Years Ago**

"Wow," Sora muttered, staring out of the passenger window. "Eimi-chan wasn't kidding. This place really is rural."

Yamato grunted in reply. He was focused on the signs marking each break from the single-lane road he was driving down. They were too damn small, and often obscured by tree branches. Sora was navigating with her cellphone, but Yamato didn't trust it this far away from civilization.

Yamato had borrowed his father's van for the weekend in order to drive himself, Sora, Takeru, and Hikari to Eimi's new home. They had been on the road for nearly three hours now, and he was beginning to grow stiff and antsy. Transportation was usually a quick and dirty affair for him. Getting around Tokyo, where he had spent most of his life, was a matter of gritting your teeth and forcing your way into a bullet train, shoving back against the other commuters as necessary. Anywhere he needed to reach was within a forty minute train ride, barring vacations, special shopping expeditions, and other non-routine circumstances. _From now on, when I visit Eimi-chan, I'm staying at least two nights. _

But really, it wasn't that bad. It was early Saturday morning, and daylight fell peacefully into the car, dappled by the abundance of trees surrounding the road. It was the height of spring, and a floral scent permeated the air. Yamato had no hope of identifying the flowers, but perhaps Sora, whose hobby was ikebana, could tell him later. Three of his favorite people were with him, and their chatter was friendly and amusing. He had begun weekends in worse ways before.

Movement in the rear view mirror caught his eye, and he glanced at the backseat. His brother's face was pressed up against his window, and he was staring, wide-eyed, at the flashing scenery. Yamato grinned as he recalled sitting opposite Takeru as a child, watching him do the exact same thing.

"I've never seen this many trees in my entire life," Takeru said. His hands joined his nose against the glass, and Yamato was tempted to snap about smudges. Yamato didn't care about that sort of thing, and he knew that his father didn't, either, but ragging on his kid brother was just one of the sacred duties imparted to him at the boy's birth, despite the fact that they were both adults now.

Takeru pulled his face back just long enough to glance over his shoulder. Hikari was seated beside him, watching him with a faint smile. _You're lucky you found a tolerant girl with a sense of humor, little bro. Your antics are a little out there for most. _

"What kind of trees are these?" Takeru demanded. Yamato had returned his attention to the road, but he knew that his brother was pulling a notebook and pen out of his pocket. The only question was whether he was fixing his girlfriend with an interrogating look, like a reporter with a captive interviewee, or glued up against the glass again like a child staring into a candy store.

A chuckle reached Yamato's ears. "I grew up in Tokyo, too, Takeru. I have no idea what these trees are," Hikari answered.

There was a soft exhalation from Takeru, an 'ah' sound that meant, _Right, right. I'm an idiot_. His brother disliked admitting his absentmindedness, so this maneuver was common.

Yamato's eyes flicked towards Sora. Her smile signaled amusement at Takeru's expense, but Yamato was sure that she would do something to change the subject, removing attention from his brother.

"Does anyone know why Taichi decided not to ride with us?" she asked, turning in her seat to look at Hikari and Takeru. Yamato felt his attention sharpening, even as he scanned the next opening coming off the main road. Taichi was always eager to freeload a ride. Yamato was at a loss to explain Taichi's sudden preference for solo travel, and his best friend had dodged around explaining himself.

He looked at the rear view mirror just in time to see Hikari's brow furrow. "He's up to something," she said. The conviction in her tone had Yamato sharing a surprised look with Sora.

"You... You don't think that, after helping Eimi-chan with her moving plans and saying that he supports her choice... You don't think Taichi's going to back out and try to convince her to stay in Odaiba, do you?" his girlfriend asked.

Hikari sighed, and Takeru turned to face her. If he had any of the Ishida charm in him, despite growing up as a Takaishi with their mother, then the boy would take his girlfriend's hand, comforting her in this moment of uncertainty. It was a pity that Yamato was too busy driving to have a good look.

"I don't think so," Hikari said at last. "But... He's been dodgy lately, like he's hiding something. I almost think he has some big, secretive gift for Eimi-nee, but I can't figure out what it might be."

Yamato felt his brow rising. Usually, Taichi was rubbish at keeping his surprises a secret. He typically spoiled them himself in his pride and excitement, rendering his efforts moot. And, even if Taichi had gotten Eimi a special going-away present, then he could have played it off as a typical gift until she opened it.

A horrific thought crossed Yamato's mind, making him go a little pale. _What if it's too big to fit in the car?_ He must have said it aloud without meaning to, because there was a beat of shocked silence in the van.

A giddy laugh floated to the front seat, and Yamato could hear his brother rubbing his hands together. Takeru was always delighted by the _what if_ game. "What if... What if it's something inappropriate?"

"Maybe he just had something custom made, and had to pick it up last minute," Sora offered. Yamato clung to her suggestion, very glad for his girlfriend's calm head and soothing nature.

Takeru made a dismissive sound. _Of course_, Yamato thought, staring dolefully at the next road sign. _That just isn't any fun, is it?_

"I've got it!" Takeru cried, and the slapping sound of a fist hitting a palm followed his proclamation. "What if it's alive?"

"Alive and inappropriate... Are you suggesting house warming strippers?" Hikari asked loftily. Yamato's eyes popped, and a barking laugh slipped out of him. Although Hikari exuded innocence and purity as a child, one couldn't grow up sharing a room with Taichi and stay that way forever. He was just too bad an influence.

_She's more fun like this, anyway_. And Yamato knew without asking that his brother would agree.

"According to my phone, the turn is the one after the next." Sora raised her voice, cutting off the talk of strippers. While his girlfriend engaged in that sort of humor among her peers, she could be uptight about it among younger people.

Yamato made the last few turns under Sora's guidance, and he was soon following a long, narrow road to Eimi's house. Truth be told, he was finally beginning to feel a little anxiety about this moving venture. Unlike Taichi, he acknowledged that Eimi was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but, to a born and bred city-dweller, this much privacy seemed ominous. Who had a private road leading to their house, anyway? It seemed like the perfect setup for a horror movie. A sweet, defenseless, curvy young woman, stranded from easy help, living alone in the middle of nowhere… _Stop that, old son. You're getting paranoid. And if you let Taichi sense that you're feeling uncertain about this, he will never shut up about it, and Eimi-chan doesn't need more resistance._

Gasps filled the van as the house came into view. Yamato wanted to join the others in gawking, but he forced his eyes to stay on the road as it curved outward, dumping him into a circular driveway. He wasn't sure how Taichi was going to get here, so he left enough room for another car behind him, put the van in park, and opened the door.

His eyes bulged when he got his first good look. His brother's boyish peals of laughter issued from somewhere behind him, but the sound seemed to come from a great distance.

It was a brand new home built in the Victorian style, of all things. The siding was a bright, cheerful yellow, trimmed with white detailing, which was particularly evident around the many windows. A wrap-around porch surrounded the front and side of the house, curving outward to accommodate the turret on the left. There was a balcony above the front door, lined with a white fence made of quirky, curving posts.

Victorian houses were normally imposing and dark, but this one was inviting and almost tongue-in-cheek, somehow. There were bright flowers, potted in even brighter glazed containers, all over the porch, and on either side of each step leading up to the porch. _God, I hope she's hired a gardener. She'll spend half her life watering and weeding, otherwise. _The scent flowers was almost overwhelming as Yamato set foot on the bottom stair.

"Ohhh," Takeru sighed, his head tilting back to take in the whole house. "Did you guys see the stately little traditional Japanese houses in the last town back? Eimi-nee's going to fit right in, right?" Hikari snickered and shook her head.

Yamato grinned, but didn't comment. His eyes were drawn to an unusual bit of architecture. There was a circular arch branching overhead where the top stair met the porch, and words were carved onto its surface. They were in English, and Yamato came to a complete stop, frowning quizzically at them. Like most Japanese students, he had studied English for his entire school career, but he wasn't fluent.

"Down from the door where it began," Takeru read, his Japanese accent much less pronounced that Yamato's was. He blinked, then smiled, his face all delight.

"What does that mean?" Sora asked.

"It's a Tolkien reference." Yamato cocked an eyebrow, trying to communicate his continued lack of understanding. "_The Lord of the Rings_, you know. Come on, Onii-chan, pick up a damn book every once in a while. Two thousand yen says she tried to talk the architect into giving her a circular door with the knob right smack in the middle." He sighed affectionately, then removed his white bucket hat, as if in reverence. "I love this woman."

"Ah," Yamato said, tsking as he stepped up to the front door. "Because reading a book about little people going to war over some bling will enrich my life."

Takeru's face twitched, and he was suddenly frowning. Yamato blinked, stumbling over processing his brother's anger. It was a rare emotion for his breezy, playful sibling. "Don't even go there, brother dear," he murmured, his eyes narrowing. "Books are _sacred, _and the _The Lord of the Rings _trilogyis a genre-defining masterpiece."

_Ah, _Yamato thought, deflating slightly. _I forgot, books are a fucking religion for him. _Takeru could accept flippancy on serious subjects like politics and morality with a grin and a wink, but heaven help you if you doubted the sanctity of literature in his hearing.

"Oh, look," Yamato said, keeping his voice as toneless as possible, "a doorbell. Let's press it." His finger was on the button in an instant. He ignored the fact that it was made of metal shaped into a rose, the petals curving back just enough to reveal the trigger in the center of the flower. Each one was rimmed with circular rivets, giving the piece a steam punk feel.

There was a pause, then the sound of loud footsteps, and then the _shllllp _of socked feet sliding against hard flooring. The door vibrated with an impact, and Takeru's annoyed expression cleared out with a snorting laugh. His little brother edged past him, so that he was the first in line when the door opened. Yamato didn't mind, so long as Takeru returned to his normal good humor.

The door pulled inward, and there Amy stood, rubbing her wrist. Her glance fell on Takeru, and she inhaled sharply, then held her arms open. He came to her, and, although Eimi was generally more affectionate than Takeru, it was impossible to say who was hugging the other harder.

"It feels like forever since I saw your stupid face!" she cried when they parted. Her palms cupped his cheeks, and she tilted his face down, so that she could kiss his forehead.

"I don't know how you managed." Takeru winked, then moved past her. Yamato let Hikari slip by, and he tried not to notice the moisture rising to Eimi's eyes as she embraced her cousin. He missed her interaction with Sora, too.

Somehow, he hadn't noticed how much they all missed each other until now, and the realization was a little uncomfortable. He didn't snap out of his daze until he felt a tugging on his arms. Eimi was pulling him in, and he bent automatically, knowing the ritual. His lips pressed, briefly and lightly, against her cheek, and she pretended to swoon into him, mimicking some of his more besotted fans. She started to back away, but Yamato caught her in a hug first.

"Took you long enough to invite us over," he muttered. Eimi turned her eyes up at him, then blinked a few times.

"I wanted everything to be ready for you guys. I really hope you like the guests rooms. I hope it's comfortable. I tried to-"

Sora's soft laughter broke into the anxious tide of words. "Knowing you, it's all lovely, Eimi. Don't worry so much. You don't have to impress us."

Eimi shuffled her feet and followed Sora into her house. "It's not about _impressing_ you. I just, I, I want you guys to like it here."

_So we'll visit often, _Yamato translated. He stepped inside, removed his shoes, and stowed them below the bench by the door. His first impression of the place was that it was open, airy, and white.

"Where's Taichi?" Eimi asked, bobbling up and down on the balls of her feet. Yamato shrugged.

"God knows. He traveled on his own. He'll show up eventually."

Eimi nearly stumbled on her next pass. "That's weird. Why come all this way on his own?"

"I wouldn't worry about it," Sora said soothingly. She took Eimi's arm and smiled at her, all calm and warmth. "I think Taichi travels so much that three hours hardly registers anymore. I'm sure he'll be here soon. Now, why don't you give us a tour? I'm dying to see what you've done."

"Oh, I, uh… I got drinks. I tried to get everyone's favorites. Do you guys want some?" Takeru started snickering at Eimi's overblown concern, and Yamato looked over in time to see Hikari's warning glance. The writer turned in her direction, then went entirely still. Those boyish, blue eyes widened so greatly that Yamato twirled around, wondering what the hell he was seeing.

He found himself looking into the interior of the turret, which was apparently home to a library. Books lined the curved walls from floor to ceiling, breaking only to allow for window space. A ladder on a track followed the shelves, providing access to the higher levels.

Takeru nearly mowed him over in his haste to get in there.

Curious, and fighting down laughter, Yamato followed his errant brother. The room, he noted, was white walled and filled with natural materials; wooden bookcases built into the walls, a leather sofa and side chair, woven baskets to hold magazines, a wooden desk, decorative ferns, and parts of tree trunks for end tables. Yamato was impressed with how soothing and tasteful it was. He had expected a lot of quirkiness from Eimi's house, but then, maybe she had toned it down for the library.

Takeru was running his fingers along the spines of books. He looked like someone had kicked him in the stomach, and he hadn't remembered to start breathing again. Eimi walked up to him, and he started talking without looking away from the books.

"Marry me," he breathed, and Yamato grimaced. He knew Takeru was joking, but he would never say something like that in front of his girlfriend. But then, Takeru had the unfortunate habit of saying things with the express purpose of stirring up trouble, often with no regard for the consequences.

Eimi shuddered and pressed Takeru's bucket hat forward, covering his eyes. "Eww. Pass. Besides, what about Hikari, huh?"

"No problem," he said, pulling a book from the shelf. Just like that, Yamato knew, his mind was in another place and time, and he started absently mussing his hair, knocking the hat off his head. "We'll strike up some illicit arrangement."

Eimi looked over at Hikari and sighed. "Nope. He's your problem, not mine," she said, holding her hands up. Hikari just smiled, and even Yamato couldn't work out what she might be thinking. _Hell of a poker face on that girl._

"Show us the living room?" Sora asked. Eimi pried the book from Takeru's hands, put it back on the shelf, and shooed him from the room, ignoring his protests. Yamato followed closely, blocking him from escape, cramming that idiotic hat back onto his head.

Eimi scampered down the hall and into the living area, an open space with light wooden flooring and cushy sofas in muted green. At this point, Yamato was fairly stunned. Everyone he knew lived in tiny apartments, and, although the room was small enough to still feel cozy, he was unprepared for these kinds of dimensions in a living space.

Yamato squinted at the furniture, fighting to focus in. "Eimi," he said, leaning in for a closer look at a side table, "you should talk to whoever delivered your furniture. The finish is scuffed."

The women turned to each other automatically, then started to laugh. "It's a style," Sora explained at last.

Eimi nodded. "Shabby chic, romantic… Basically, it imitates the effects of aging."

"Why?" Takeru demanded. "If you bought new stuff, why would you want it to look old?"

"The same reason why you like antique books." Hikari had moved to the windows, and was looking out at the forest surrounding the house.

A knock on the door had Eimi turning. "That must be Taichi," she cried. She pranced down the hall, lifting her legs high with each step, her bent elbows held up beside her body. _God, she has the girliest run on the planet, _Yamato thought with a grin. Soon, a cry of '_Taichi!,' _high and bright with excitement, filled the room.

"Oof! Careful, Eimi, I'm trying to carry this…!"

Everyone assembled in the living room shared ominous glances, with the exception of Takeru, who appeared to be vibrating with excitement and anticipation. _So it has to do with a gift, after all. _They all took seats, like spectators anticipating a show.

"Hm? What is that, Taichi?"

The pair of them appeared in the room, and Taichi was hefting an enormous cardboard box over his shoulder, his head tipped to the side to make room for it. Eimi's head was tilted back, her eyes animated and curious. Grunting, Taichi set the box down, and Yamato felt his eyebrows rise. Whatever was in that box had to be fairly heavy, given the way Taichi was stretching his arms.

"I thought this house was new, Eimi," Taichi said, turning slowly to take in the room. "Why does everything look so damn run down?"

Takeru snickered at the repeated question, but Yamato's glare was enough to keep him from saying anything about his similar reaction. He tuned out Eimi's exasperated shabby chic monologue.

"Where the hell is your TV?" Taichi asked suddenly, cutting off her explanation. "The video games?"

"Media room," Eimi sighed. "I didn't want controllers and game cases tossed all over the living room." She opened her mouth to go on, but was cut off by a strange, high-pitched sound.

"Uh, Taichi," Sora said slowly, raising a hand to her lips, "did your box just, uh… Whine?"

"Oh, God," Takeru breathed. For a moment, he just stared at the cardboard box, his eyes going wider by the second. Then, with no warning, he was laughing hysterically, bending over his knees with his arms wrapped around his waist.

"Well- God damn it, Takeru, you sound just like the hyenas I saw on safari- Sit, Eimi." Taichi took hold of his cousin's shoulders and pushed. Yamato grinned as Eimi leaned back into him and relaxed, letting her socked feet glide across the hardwood as he did all the work. He led her to an armchair, flipped her around theatrically, and dumped her onto it, knocking her knees out from under her. A throaty, surprised laugh popped out of Eimi, and Takeru laughed in response, almost in harmony. Yamato listened with interest, wondering if this sort of sound could be harnessed in a song.

"Okay," Taichi said, his voice going a little tight with excitement. "Close your eyes."

An arched brow rose on Eimi's face, but she obeyed, already smiling with anticipation and amusement. "You really didn't have to get me anything, Taichi. I wasn't expecting anything." She could say that all she wanted, but Yamato noticed her feet shuffling over each other, betraying her pleasure and excitement.

"You never expect anything," Taichi said dismissively. "And yeah, I did have to." A touch of concern registered in Yamato. There was a sudden seriousness to Taichi's expression, evident in the distance in his eyes and the tightness of his neck muscles. He glanced over at Sora, and she was staring at Taichi, too, her head subtly shaking left and right. _She's worried, too. _He swallowed hard. Yamato trusted his instincts in these situations, but, when his girlfriend was on the same page, he took their combined results as absolute fact.

Taichi went to the box, pulled back the flaps, then put his arms inside, as if he was restraining something. He spared a moment to grace them all with a warning glare that said, _Don't say a word. _Takeru snickered and wrapped an arm around Hikari's shoulder, tapping his foot eagerly. Hikari, Yamato noticed, looked wary.

Those sinewy arms pulled back, and something dark and fluffy poked its head out of the box. Yamato swallowed an exclamation as the black and brown thing lifted huge, gawky paws over the edge of the cardboard. His peripheral vision picked up Takeru's exaggerated movement, lurching forward with disbelief, half dragging his girlfriend with him. Sora dumped her forehead into an open palm.

The furry head turned in Yamato's direction, and he found himself staring, frozen, into intelligent, golden brown eyes. It was a massive dog with big, perked ears. The face was mostly black, as was the back. The stomach and legs were brown. And beneath that bicolored fur was a body of solid, heavy, imposing muscle.

_Good God, that thing is a living weapon. I bet its teeth are like shearing knives. What the hell is Taichi thinking, dumping that on Eimi?! _Yamato's hands tightened around the couch's cushions.

Taichi made a hand motion in the dog's line of sight, and it fell into step with him. The creature followed him to Eimi, then sat down in front of her after receiving another sign language command. Taichi took Eimi's pale hands in his, then gently pulled her forward, making her bend closer to his gift. He took a deep breath, then sank her palms into the fluff on either side of the dog's head.

Her eyes flew open at the contact, and there was a beat of shocked silence as she ogled the dog. Then, a high-pitched sound reached Yamato's ears, causing something like a tickle in his brain. Takeru, curse him, started to laugh again, but he had the sense to try and dull the sound by raising a cupped palm to his mouth.

"Taichi," Hikari said, breaking the silence at last, "for the record… My apartment complex doesn't allow animals."

Taichi sighed. "Yeah, I know." Yamato went a little pale. _Holy shit. He checked._

"So much for that cat you wanted," Takeru said, shaking his head. Taichi frowned at him.

"Cats? Why would you want a cat? Cats are useless. This guy, on the other hand… He can rip a man's throat out in under five seconds. Can't you, boy?" Taichi leaned over and ruffled the dog's head affectionately, as if he had just described its endearing habit of waiting by the door for its master to return. Sora twitched and edged back slightly.

Yamato looked from face to face, and everyone looked back at him with imploring expressions, except for Takeru, who was staring at Eimi, no doubt trying to work out the intricacies of her overwhelmed body language. And Eimi, of course, was still staring at the furry dependent that Taichi had just dumped at her feet.

A slow, burdened sigh worked its way out of Yamato's chest. _Ugh. Why am I always the one who has to rationalize things to this idiot? _"Taichi. You can't force a pet on someone. That thing could live for, what, thirteen years? What if Eimi doesn't want that kind of responsibility? What if she doesn't want a huge dog in her nice, new house? What if she actually wanted a _cat _the whole time? You think that dog is going to leave a cat alone?" _It could probably eat it in one gulp._

"This isn't just any dog," Taichi said impatiently. He moved back towards the cardboard box and extracted a DVD case, then took a seat beside Hikari. "He's been trained from the cradle to-"

"The cradle?" Takeru interrupted, grinning. "I think you mean 'the kennel.'"

"I think you mean 'shut the hell up, Takeru.'" Taichi glared at Takeru, clearly not appreciating his response of laughter. "Any damn way, he's a born and bred guard dog. A German shepherd. This DVD teaches his commands. They're made up sign language, so that no one else can give him orders. If you take him with you wherever you go, Eimi, people will think twice before they bother you. And he knows how to guard a house, so any intruders will be incapacitated before they can do anything."

_Let's hope none of them are actually delivering a package. _"You have to return it," Yamato said. "Taichi, it's too dangerous. You seriously want to leave something that's been trained to kill with Eimi? What are you _thinking_?"

"What I'm thinking," Taichi growled, shifting closer to Yamato, "is that there's no one here to protect Eimi. Now there is. I'll feel better about her being out in the boonies like this if she's not actually alone. And you know how she likes to wander around outside. This way, the dog can make sure that no one creepy tries anything on her while she's away from witnesses."

Yamato hesitated. He had to admit that Taichi brought up some good points, but the dog still seemed like a double-edged sword to him. Animals were unpredictable, and this one had the physical strength and the training to do permanent damage. Was the added security worth the risk? Frowning, he looked away from Taichi and focused back in on Eimi.

Her fingers shifted as he looked on, her first movement since Taichi had unveiled his gift. They began to hesitantly stroke the dog's head, and a huge, hairy tail began to thump against the floor. A smile broke across Eimi's face, and she began to pet him with more enthusiasm. "Who's a good boy?" she murmured, scratching his chin. The dog's huge head flew backwards, exposing more of his throat to Eimi's hands. His body seemed to shudder with delight as she obliged him, stroking every available inch of his body. A deep _houf houf _reached Yamato, a sound that he had never heard before. You didn't see many people with dogs in Tokyo, given the restrictions against pets in most apartments. There just wasn't room for them.

By now, Eimi's hands had moved to the base of the dog's neck, and it flopped over on the floor, rolled onto its back, and spread its legs. Hikari giggled as an enormous, pink tongue began to loll out of its mouth. Eimi slid out of her chair and began to rub the dog's exposed stomach, and even Yamato had to grin when one of its legs began to kick in the air.

"Aww, you're just a big softie, aren't you?" she cooed, working her hands over him. "Good boy!" Yamato's smile grew larger when he saw Taichi frowning at the dog, no doubt unimpressed by his playful behavior. In contrast, there was a warm look in Sora's eyes, indicating that she found this scene touching.

"He's not a puppy anymore, but he's not full grown, either," Taichi said, as if the dog's youth explained his distinctively un-guardian like behavior.

Eimi blinked, then looked over at Taichi. Belatedly, Yamato realized that she had been so focused on the dog that she probably hadn't noticed a word of the conversation flowing around her. Taichi's eyes met hers, and she smiled and extended a hand, making a beckoning motion. Looking suddenly sheepish, Taichi obeyed, standing and moving closer, until he was bent at her side, putting his head on level with hers.

She wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulled him in, and gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek. "Oh, _Taichi_. I _love _him. Thank you _so much_. This is the nicest present I've ever gotten." She turned her face back to the dog, resuming the belly rub. "I was a little worried, you know, that it might get lonely. But now it won't."

Yamato told himself not to look at Taichi. One glance would reveal the sudden surge of concern and worry he was feeling. But, despite his best efforts, their eyes seemed to lock automatically.

Taichi tipped his head towards Eimi. _She's going to miss us too much. I told you this was a mistake. _Yamato responded with a slight shake of the head.

_She'll be fine. _He cast his glance around the room, leading Taichi's attention to the people gathered there. _We'll all come visit when we can._

Taichi stared at him for a long moment, then returned his attention to Eimi. "I'm glad you like him," he said, his voice going gruff. "Uh, listen, it was a long ride. Got any beer?"

Yamato wasn't sure whether to laugh or cringe. Taichi's sudden need to drink had nothing to do with his traveling, and he was sure some of the others could pick up on that. Eimi glanced in the direction of the kitchen, but seemed unwilling to leave her new pet, so Yamato led Taichi there. He turned his thoughts towards new arguments in support of Eimi living here, hoping that he could appease Taichi.

_I'm really earning the use of a guest room here, _he thought with a sigh.

**About Two Years Ago**

Koushiro was sitting at his desk in his bedroom, trying to figure out why his program was crashing, when his phone rang. He reached for it reflexively and pressed it to his ear, never taking his eyes off of the screen. "Yes," he murmured, his voice brisk and even. "Izumi speaking."

"Moshi moshi. It's Jyou. I'm surprised you picked up on the first try, Koushiro. I'm honored."

"Jyou?" Koushiro kicked off of the floor, rolling the desk chair backwards, giving himself room to stand. "It's good to hear from you. Your emails have been brief and somewhat listless of late, if you don't mind my saying so. I hope you're well?" His went to his bed and laid down, giving all of his attention to his friend.

There was a pause on the other line, then a long, gusty sigh. "Wow. I had no idea I was giving signals like that in my emails. It's a strange day when you get more social context out of something than I do."

Koushiro frowned thoughtfully, offering nothing but a faint _hmm _in reply. Jyou's tone was far more…_complex _than usual. Ever since beginning his residency, Jyou's calls had decreased in frequency, and he seemed more strained and exhausted as time passed. Koushiro was fairly sure that Jyou's inability to keep his tone normal had something to do with his distance, and so Koushiro had started emailing him instead, hoping that a less revealing method of contact would be more comfortable for his friend.

But now, Jyou sounded remarkably relaxed. Koushiro had no clue what could have caused that, but… Well, it was Monday. Perhaps Jyou's weekend activities had agreed with him? He did seem to recall his friend telling him that he had an upcoming weekend free. "How are you?" he asked. With any luck, Jyou would give an actual answer, instead of awkwardly turning the subject.

"I'm… Actually, I feel great. You?"

_Oh, no. Wait just a nanosec, Jyou. _There was no way Koushiro was going to let the impetus behind this pleasant change of affairs go undiscussed. "Fine. Prodigious. Has something positive occurred?" His mind filled with hopeful scenarios, including more lenient limits on the number of hours that residents could work per week, a string of miraculous recoveries in the hospital, and the acquisition of a lovely female companion.

There was a slight pause, which somehow seemed discouraging. What was there to hesitate about? "I had the weekend off. I was finally able to relax for a solid forty-eight hours. I forgot how nice that is."

_Vague. Imprecise. Unacceptable. _A combination of annoyance and single-minded interest, the familiar companion of any programmer, took over Koushiro's faculties, focusing them on the task of gathering information. "I'm glad to hear it. What did you do?"

"Well… I spent the weekend with Eimi. She fussed over me the whole time."

Disappointment registered in Koushiro's mind. While he was glad to hear that Jyou had been on the receiving end of care for once, he was hoping to hear that something more permanent had taken place. "Ah. Well, it certainly seems to have agreed with you."

There was a faint laugh on the opposite line, one that Koushiro couldn't quite explain. Koushiro was tempted to ask for an explanation, but Jyou immediately began to talk again. "Listen, that's actually why I called. You've had enough time to get settled at your new university. Eimi's house is less than an hour away from you. I wanted to set up a meeting between the two of you."

Koushiro blinked, then pulled the phone away from his face. He gave the display a confused, wary look, focusing those unsettled feelings on the character's making up Jyou's name. Then, reluctantly, he sat the device against his ear again. "Whatever for? We never managed to get together while the two of you were dating. And that was, what? Seven or eight years ago, now? I don't see a reason for me to make her acquaintance now."

"Well,_ I_ do." Koushiro ran his palm down his face and grimaced. That fatherly I-know-what's-best-for-you tone was heavy in Jyou's words. "Listen, Koushiro, I'd feel a lot better knowing that the two of you have someone who can reach you in case of emergency. I know Tachikawa-san would feel the same way. And I'd also feel a lot better knowing that each of you has another friend."

_Another distraction, more like. _Koushiro knew better than to argue against the merits of friendship, or to point out that he had quite enough friends as it was. He tried for another angle, and managed a tiny grin when he thought of one. "I have a girlfriend, Jyou. Isn't it rather suspect to go meeting up alone with another woman? One that Mimi doesn't know?"

"Okay, Koushiro." Jyou's voice was deadpan and thoroughly unimpressed. "Now you're just making excuses, and ridiculous ones, at that."

Koushiro twitched, startled by the accuracy of Jyou's words. His mind clunked along, trying to offer a different approach. Unfortunately, it landed on rank honesty, the kind that most people preferred to avoid. "To be blunt, I prefer my work to most people. The odds of Anami-san being an exception are very low."

That familiar, beleaguered sigh sounded through the receiver, and Koushiro's lips twitched upward. It was as if Jyou were sitting opposite him back in middle school, trying to get him to close his laptop for two seconds. "Look. I'm your best friend. We get on well. Doesn't it follow that you'd probably like someone I like? And I'm asking you to _meet _her. If you don't like her, fine. Don't meet up with her again."

Koushiro stared at the ceiling, mentally inscribing it with all of the things he had to do, all of which would get knocked down a notch if he had to go meet Eimi. But, as was often the case, Jyou's logic was sound. There really wasn't all that much to lose by the venture. It was annoying, but he easily owed Jyou this much. "Do you really think I'd get along with her?" he asked, more to salvage his pride than anything else.

"Koushiro. She subscribes to scientific magazines. She commonly quotes Star Wars, she can destroy Taichi-san in Mario Kart, and she's unbelievably well-read. And she's a warm, gentle, considerate woman." Another sigh, but it was almost affectionate, at least compared to the others so far. "You'll manage."

"Nnn…" That was undeniably a selling list of traits, as far as Koushiro was concerned. But still, a female was a female. As much as he cared for Mimi, it was difficult enough, at times, having her in his life. Did he really need another woman around, gossiping and chatting about fashion and makeup and the like?

"That seriously isn't enough?" Koushiro could practically see Jyou rubbing at his forehead, working his fingers over the indentations there. A deep, steadying breath was released, creating a burst of static. "Fine. Fine. Then consider that she's… She's the only woman I've… I've really loved."

A moment of potent embarrassment seized Koushiro. That was way too much emotional candor for his liking, and something in him bit back, trying to push it away, to make it less real. "Jyou. You're laying it on too thick, now. You've dated plenty of women since college."

There was a long, painful pause. "I'm aware of that, thanks."

That was it. Koushiro didn't have a single arrow in his quiver that could combat that kind of finality. And he also recognized, if only just, that denying Jyou this request would be a personal blow. That was something Koushiro couldn't do to him.

"Very well, then," he said, his tone crisp and businesslike. "Where are we going to meet?"

**About a Week Later**

Koushiro stepped into the cafe and tried to work the scowl off his face. Eimi should be in here somewhere. He was right on time for their meeting, and Jyou had mentioned that Eimi was typically early.

His fingers twitched towards the straps of his backpack. As always, it contained a laptop and its accessories. Before he met Mimi, he carried them in the worn, dirty backpack from his school career, but she sent him an expensive leather one early in the relationship. And right now, all he wanted to do was open it, find a quiet corner, and work.

But both Jyou and Mimi would have some choice words for him if he did that, and so, sighing in his mind, he lowered his hands and roamed through the cluster of tables. According to Jyou, Eimi would be reading, and likely wearing headphones, so he searched for a bowed head of long brown hair. He spotted a likely candidate right away, but her face was hidden behind an open English copy of _Nature _magazine. His brow rose at the cover, which appeared to feature an advancement in the field of synthetic biology and genome engineering. Without meaning to, he inched closer, trying to read the smaller print.

The movement must have caught the woman's attention, because she lowered the magazine enough to expose large, dark brown eyes. They blinked once, twice, and the literature dropped more, revealing a round, pale face. "Izumi-san?" she asked, placing the issue on the table. Koushiro's glance followed it and lingered there, and a few seconds passed before he responded.

"Ah, yes," he said at last, nodding awkwardly down at her. She was seated at a table for two tucked away in a corner. Walls cradled it, painted a soothing forest green and covered with art featuring bread and baked goods. There was a speaker in the ceiling above the table, raining down easy listening music. A pleasant, relatively private spot, just the sort he gravitated towards.

Eimi stared at him for a moment, then rose and extended a hand. "Um, I'm Eimi," she said. Koushiro took it and shook, and a smile cleared away the uncertainty in her expression. "Stars, it's so good to finally meet you! Taichi, Yamato, and Jyou have told me so much about you, I feel like I know you."

Koushiro couldn't quite explain it, but there was something unique about her voice. He was under the impression that she was born and raised in Japan, but there were traces of Western in both her accent and her appearance. There was also a rhythmic sort of lilt to how she spoke. Puzzled, he nodded absently and waited for her to speak again, quite missing that it was his turn to talk.

Eimi shifted her weight a few times. "Uh… Your hair is _really_ red. I mean, I've seen pictures, but it's _red_. It's really cool, I think."

Koushiro fought back a sigh. He didn't feel like explaining the mixed background of his biological parents, nor the fact that he was adopted. Also, why did she feel the need to tell him what color his hair was? He was tempted to say something along the lines of, _yes, it's been red all my life, thanks, _but he held back, mostly out of respect for Jyou.

"What were you reading?" he asked. His hand twitched towards the magazine on the table.

"_Nature_," she said, shrugging and suddenly looking a little uncomfortable. "Um- You probably don't want it." She moved it closer to her body, and Izzy's fingers twitched with frustration, finding themselves foiled from reaching their goal. "Taichi's always teasing me about it."

"On the contrary. I'm quite interested. And anything that Taichi-san finds dull is likely to be of interest to me." Eimi laughed, and Koushiro edged back slightly when she snorted midway. She covered her mouth with a cupped palm, but the graceless sound was already out in the open. He had never heard a girl laugh that way before, although, to be fair, he was only close to two women.

She surrendered the magazine with a smile. "Fair enough. If you're ready, let's go order, okay? I'm starving."

Before long, they were back at the table with their lunches, and Izzy had scanned through the cover article while waiting for his order to come up, not noticing the woman standing awkwardly behind and to the side of him. Once seated, he opened the magazine to the appropriate page and pointed to a diagram from the cited experiment. "Anami-san, you studied biology, correct? And you keep yourself current on new experiments?" His finger tapped the image a few times, working out some of his frustration. "I'm not entirely fluent in English, especially with such technical language. Can you explain this to me?"

"Eimi," she corrected, her tone brisk and automatic. Koushiro felt an eyebrow pop up. Now that he thought of it, he seemed to remember Jyou warning him that Eimi preferred to be called by her given name, but that just seemed too familiar. _I suppose I could avoid using her name altogether, _he thought, frowning. Such a troublesome thing to remember…

She bent closer for a better view of the image, read the accompanying blurb, and nodded. "Ah. Yes. Well, to understand this, you need to know a little about gene manipulation…" She tilted her head and trailed off uncertainly, as if she expected him to hastily change the subject.

"Give me the short version," he said, leaning closer, echoing her posture.

Apparently, Eimi was lacking in her ability to be brief, because their food was gone and cleared away well before she finished. Eventually, Koushiro's cell phone alarm sounded, alerting him of the late hour, and he made his obligations known and got ready to leave.

Eimi opened her purse and extracted another magazine. "I'm still reading this one, but you can have last week's. I tore out one of the articles, though…"

Koushiro's gaze locked on her offering. "Are you sure?" he asked, forcing the words out for the sake of politeness. He wanted that magazine. Now that he thought about it, it was silly that he wasn't already subscribed to something similar, but he had a way of forgetting other interests in favor of programming and math.

"Sure," she said, smiling. "Most of the articles are available online for subscribers, so help yourself."

He accepted the magazine, then frowned down at the cover. "Ah… You said you receive these weekly…?" he prompted. He lacked the social skills to subtly indicate that he was interested in discussing more articles, and had too much pride to say it outright, leaving him at an awkward middle ground.

Eimi's eyes locked on his. They were large, round, and very dark brown, so much so that the pupil was almost difficult to differentiate from the iris. Her eyelashes were thick, black, long, and subtly curved, rendering her blinking somewhat mesmerizing. Koushiro felt frozen by the sudden sagacity of her gaze, mixed in with something gentle and ethereal.

Then, she smiled, and that otherworld feeling vanished. "If you have any questions, feel free to ask. We can meet up again, or we could Skype."

Koushiro delivered a fumbling agreement, then made his escape. Truthfully, his enjoyment of their time together annoyed him, both because it seemed another facet was going to form in his social life, and because he was going to have to tell Jyou that things had gone well, despite his earlier fussing.

_But she seems so intelligent. And a bit strange, perhaps, but friendly enough, _he thought, scowling down at the magazine. Sighing, he tucked it into his backpack, then made his way to the bus stop.

Begrudgingly, he admitted to himself that he wanted to see her again next week, both to discuss this _Nature _and to receive the one she was reading now.

**Author's Note: **

Oh, Koushiro. You're so… Oh, Koushiro.

A note on Takeru and Hikari's personalities. I personally felt that the English dub stripped Takeru of his personality from 01 and replaced it in 02 with a generic, nice guy who played the straight man among the kids with more… out there personalities. I found it boring, so I took inspiration from Aveza's _Plus One_ Takeru and turned him into an eccentric writer who enjoys stirring up trouble and finding the funny side of everything.

As for Hikari, well, the English dub never gave her a discernible personality to begin with (again, just my opinion). She was mysterious, quiet, and sweet in 01, and then more of the same in 02, except she developed a very slightly sardonic sense of humor. It didn't help that the show kept building her up as being something special (references to having a magic, rejuvenating crest and being the Queen in both 01 and 02), but then _never delivered on that plot line_, despite carrying it across the seasons. That's why I worked out a personality for her on my own. She's deeply introverted and personal, she has a sharp wit and sense of humor, and she's very wise. There is a depth of caring inside of her, but, somewhat like Eimi, it's not on the surface, and it's very difficult to gain her regard, and quite easy to lose it. She's deeply patient and forgiving about the big things, and she's generally tolerant and calm. But she can be a touch irritable about every day stuff when she's in a bad mood (except that she's always patient with kids).

Wasn't I supposed to not be leaving author's notes…?

I will be updating _Four Years_ next Sunday. The Sunday after that, this fic will be updated. We'll be back in the present, and Koushiro will visit Eimi to see why she's been avoiding him. Please look forward to it! Thanks for reading.


	4. Tension, Pt 1

Tension, Part One

**Cultural Notes:**

**Aegis: **Okay, so this is an Ancient Greece cultural note, not a Japanese one. Today, "aegis" means a form of protection. In Greek mythology, it was an attribute of Zeus and Athena. It's never absolutely defined, but it's usually interpreted as a hide shield, sometimes bearing the head of a Gorgon. There is a myth where Perseus (who is the son of Zeus and Danae, _not _Poseidon, despite what you might have read in certain Young Adult books) beheads the Gorgon Medusa, and Athena attaches the head to her shield, so that her enemies will be turned to stone if they look into Medusa's eyes.

The name Aegis is a triple reference for Eimi's dog. For one, it reflects that he's a guard dog. It also calls to mind Eimi's obsession with Greek myth. Finally, it echoes the abilities of her Digimon partner, Galemon, over in Growing Up with You.

Tension,_ n_: In music, tension is the perceived need for relaxation or release created by a listener's expectations.

**Present **

Koushiro stared out of his car window and sighed. As always, there was a pile of exams waiting on his desk. As always, he was juggling multiple programs and lines of inquiry. As always, there were a thousand and one other things that he could be doing at this moment. True, visiting a friend was much simpler than trying to understand, exploit, and push the capabilities of computer languages. But he'd still prefer the academic activities, at least when he had a mission hanging over his head.

Eimi's home, a sunshine yellow affair, stood in front of him, beckoning with a delightful explosion of colors and floral scents. Usually, he was happy to heed those signs of welcome. But his purpose was heavy on his back, and he bent his shoulders subconsciously as he closed his car door. Sighing, he approached the veranda, then halted when he heard the faint sound of a guitar. He moved around to the side of the house, ignoring the petals shifting in the breeze and the creaking porch swing.

He had stepped into her backyard many times, spending summer evenings programming outdoors as she read or bent over her instrument, but his breath still caught whenever he walked into it. Eimi had spared no expense here. She loved nature, which, he suspected, had played a large role in convincing her to move out of Tokyo. This garden, with its multitude of flowers and tinkling fountains, would have been an impossible luxury in the city.

Eimi was sitting on a blanket under a tree, strumming her guitar and singing in an undertone. Her dog, an enormous German shepherd, was lying by her side in a half daze, his tail twitching intermittently. Koushiro hesitated. He was reluctant to interrupt so idyllic a setting, especially when her voice swelled on a particularly emotional verse, carrying it over to the other side of the garden.

He moved closer, almost without willing it. The dog sharply raised his head as Koushiro approached, and he was sure that the guard would sound an alarm. But he smiled a huge, toothy dog smile, thumped his tail, and settled back down at the sight of him.

_Taichi-san would have a conniption if he knew that his trained guard dog was welcoming a visitor, _Koushiro thought with a grin. The smile faded as he came close enough to understand the lyrics of Eimi's song. She was fond of brooding, emotional music, a trait she playfully attributed to the Celtic blood in her ancestry. But there was something worrisome about the way she leaned on her guitar, as if she needed the support to stay upright.

At some point, Koushiro came close enough to take up the animal's full attention, and he stood and trotted over. Eimi looked up to check on him, and her eyes moved past the dog to Koushiro. She twitched, and her left hand tensed violently around the neck of the guitar, causing a faint grating sound. She smiled, but it seemed awkward and forced.

"Koushiro-kun?" He fought to keep his expression normal as he registered the signs of discomfort and panic on her face. He focused his attention on the dog, who had rolled onto his back at his feet, demanding tummy rubs. Koushiro delivered them enthusiastically, allowing his mind to churn while his hands performed a simple task. A muscular, furry leg began to beat blissfully in the air.

"You know, Aegis really does love your belly rubs more than anyone else's," Eimi said as she stood. Koushiro glanced up and saw that she had hung her guitar over her back, like a quiver of arrows.

He shrugged and stood, smiling slightly as Aegis whimpered in dissent. "I've no idea why. I've never had a dog before."

They stared at each other in silence, and Koushiro identified the strange feeling between them as awkwardness. That was a new and unpleasant, and it made his concern spike further. _Yes, Mimi and I were correct. There is definitely something wrong with her._

"So, what brings you here?" Eimi ran her hands down her dress, smoothing it with painful deliberateness. With that accomplished, she tossed her long hair over her shoulder, then glanced around, as if in search for some other task.

Koushiro tilted his head, hesitating over his response. Should he open by telling her exactly why he was here, or should he play this off as a normal visit for a while? But the longer he considered it, the less natural the pause became, until it was entirely evident that there was something unusual afoot.

He sighed and ran a hand down his face, ignoring the tickling feeling from a stiff dog hair. "Mimi sent me," he admitted, brushing his hands against his pants. "You've been avoiding the both of us, and we're concerned. Mimi reasoned that you'd have difficulty avoiding me if I appeared at your doorstep."

His eyes turned to her face, searching it for information. Eimi, he knew, was almost incapable of direct deceit. If she said that she hadn't been ignoring them, and offered a clear explanation, then he would take it at face value, despite his misgivings. But she started violently, and her forehead furrowed. Her bare feet shuffled in the grass.

"Are you staying for dinner?" She moved towards the house before he gave an answer, indicating that she didn't expect one. They had a subtle language between them. By changing the subject, but making no denials, Eimi was signaling that she would reopen this topic later. By not pointing out her deflection, Koushiro made it known that he understood her need to organize her thoughts and prepare for what may be a difficult discussion.

Normally, he appreciated her tact and patience, but the delay tugged at his nerves today, making him even more uncomfortable.

She opened the back door, and he eased it out of her hands, taking on its weight as she slipped through the entry with her dog. "My vegetables are coming along nicely. I could make us salad. I already have chicken noodle soup simmering. And you're in luck, I picked up fresh bread today, and it's the yummiest."

Koushiro let her talk as she dropped off her guitar and moved into the kitchen. The homey smell of cooking chicken wafted towards him, growing stronger with each step. "Mmm," he murmured. The oven came into view, and Aegis trotted off to the corner of the kitchen, collapsing onto the dog bed waiting there. He drew his paws together and lowered his head onto them, watching the humans with golden brown eyes.

Eimi removed the lid from the pot on the stove, and Koushiro crowded her back without realizing it. Warmth and delicious smells plumed outward, and, embarrassingly, his mouth began to water. He had been subsisting on a steady diet of simple, rice-heavy recipes, having no interest in or knack for the culinary arts.

"Your tastes are so American," he commented, hoping to draw attention away from the fact that he was edging Eimi out of the way, as if he planned on dipping his head into the pot.

Eimi paused, then shook her head. "_Is_ chicken soup American? I have no idea. I want to say it was originally French?" She shrugged, then went back to straining a film off of the surface of the soup.

"I no longer care." Koushiro moved closer to the soup, and Eimi accidentally elbowed him, causing him to sheepishly back off. But only a little; the food was incredibly aromatic, smelling both of chicken and spices from her garden. His stomach rumbled, and a small smile lifted the corners of Eimi's mouth. "I forgot how domestic you are. I really had ought to visit more frequently."

Eimi tsked and flicked her wooden spoon over the sink. "Are you buttering me up to make you dessert?" she asked, closing the lid on the pot. "Because it's working."

Anticipation instantly formed. "What would you make?" he asked, and his eagerness surprised him. Eimi glanced at her cabinet, then frowned thoughtfully.

"Ehhh… I wasn't expecting you, so I don't have many options. I think I have ingredients for chocolate chip cookies. Do you want to make some and squish French vanilla ice cream between them?"

Koushiro closed his eyes and sighed. "Yes. Yes, I would like to do that. May we save some of the dough to mix into the ice cream?"

Eimi blinked at him, pausing in washing her hands. "You… You really are a genius," she said reverently. Smiling, he handed her the towel hanging from the oven.

They went on like that for a while, chatting about light things like food, work, and Eimi's traveling, all while pulling vegetables from the garden, cleaning them, and chopping them up for a salad. Koushiro felt himself loosening up, losing track of his mission. It was so easy to fall into pleasant conversation with her, especially since he hadn't seen her for a while. If it wasn't for the stiffness in her body and her sudden penchant for jumping and twitching, he might have forgotten his worries.

Before long, Eimi herded him into a chair at the kitchen table and started setting the table around him, declining his offers to help. She sat a wine glass in front of him without asking what he wanted to drink, which struck him as being a bit odd, but he was accustomed to a measure of oddness with Eimi, so he said nothing.

There was a bar in the corner of the kitchen, and bottles were displayed on its wooden surface. The selection was large, and Koushiro tilted his head as he tried to work out the reason for it. "I was under the impression that you weren't overly fond of drinking," he commented, watching her walk towards the alcohol.

"I'm not," she said easily. Her hand fell on the nearest bottle, a pale pink champagne. "This one is Hikari's favorite." She moved along to the next, a white wine. "Takeru. Taichi loves rum, whiskey, and vodka, and he and Yamato like to drink this beer while they eat. Yamato loves scotch, as well as gin and tonics. Jyou has a taste for the more fragrant, complex sake varieties. Sora-chan loves fruity sake and wine. And you, of course, are rum for hard drinking, and red wine for social." She picked up a bottle of red wine as she spoke and returned to the table.

He watched the dark liquid pool inside of his glass as she poured. His hand tightened around the stem. How many nights did she eat in here, facing the drinks, thinking about the last time she had poured them for her friends? Had she thought about him, even through her mysterious period of withdrawal?

It was probably foolish of him to ask so frank a question, at such a seemingly random time, but the words slipped out on their own. His eyes moved away from the wine and traveled up, landing directly on hers. "Are you lonely?"

The stream of wine bobbed, but didn't splash beyond the glass. Eimi stepped back, corked the bottle, and cupped the bottom of it with her hand. She turned stiffly, then retreated to the bar, where she fussed with placing the wine exactly where it had been before she picked it up.

"If I were lonely," she said at last, "then I wouldn't have a collection of drinks. There would never be anyone to pour them for." There was something about her careful wording and cautious tone that made Koushiro want to probe the issue, but even he could recognize the signs of her discomfort. So, when she finally turned around, he was engaged in drinking, trying to signal that he was dismissing his question.

Eimi nodded faintly, then moved to the refrigerator. She pulled out a glass bottle containing what appeared to be a fruit flavored malt drink, then sat it on her side of the table. Then, she moved to the island and began to pour the soup into bowls. Koushiro smiled faintly at the sight of her china, which featured birds on flowering branches.

"I'd like to assist you," he murmured, already knowing that she wouldn't have it. Eimi was like a doting mother with her guests, intent on caring for them. He'd have his moment, though. Once everyone was fed and happy, she loosened up a bit, and he would be able to give her a hand with cleaning up after the meal.

"You just relax." She carried over the loaf of bread, which was cut and arranged invitingly on a platter, and a little plate containing butter and a spreader. "Don't hold back, go on and eat. Don't think I didn't hear your stomach growling earlier." Koushiro glanced up at her back, then looked down into his soup. Fragrant plumes of heat rose from it, drawing his face closer to the broth. Normally, he would have waited for his hostess to be seated before eating, but his hunger had eclipsed his sense of decorum. He dove in, seizing a thick slice of sourdough bread and dipping it in the broth.

An embarrassing grunt of approval slipped out when he tasted the food. The bread seemed to dissolve on contact with his tongue, flooding his mouth with the flavors of chicken, carrots, celery, onions, and grains. The slice somehow made its way down in throat in eight seconds, moving a bit easier for the broth soaked up in its fibers. He was halfway through his second piece by the time Eimi placed a salad in front of him.

She sat, and Koushiro was distantly aware that she was staring at him from across the table, but he couldn't help himself. He kept scarfing the food down, nearly scalding his mouth on his first straight spoonful of soup. He swallowed half of his wine in an attempt to cool his mouth. It occurred to him a moment later that he should be more careful with the speed of his alcohol consumption, given the emptiness of his stomach.

For the first time since he had arrived, Koushiro heard the sound of Eimi laughing full on. His eyes darted to her over the edge of his glass, and he smiled automatically, despite the fact that he was mid-swallow. "You're eating like Taichi does after a long flight!" she exclaimed, balancing her elbows on the table. She cupped her cheeks with her hands and fixed him with an expression of mixed interest, amusement, and fondness.

"I apologize," he said, forcing himself not to dive right back into the soup. "I don't cook. I've been surviving on straight rice for…" His eyes averted as he tried to remember. The truth was, ever since transitioning from student to teacher, thus losing access to college cafeterias, he rarely ate anything but whatever pathetic meal he could scrape up at home. It occurred to him that he could order out, but it seemed a waste of time and money. The time required to choose a restaurant, place the call, and take the elevator to his apartment complex's lobby to accept the food was better spent in pursuit of academic tasks. Often, he skipped dinner entirely, but he wasn't foolish enough to tell Eimi that.

Eimi's expression darkened, and Koushiro realized that he had already said more than he should have. "_Koushiro-kun_," she sighed. She pointed her spoon at him and waggled it accusingly. "That's terrible! Are you at least taking daily vitamins? Does Tachikawa-san know that you're not taking proper care of yourself?"

Koushiro grimaced and busied himself with eating, leaving the question blatantly unanswered. That was the last thing he needed, and it suddenly occurred to him that, ever since Yamato's wedding, his girlfriend had been in contact with Eimi, if infrequently. _This is exactly the kind of thing Mimi wanted to be warned about when she established a friendship with Eimi-san. _

Eimi sighed and popped her drink open. "Maybe I can figure something out," she muttered. Koushiro's eyebrows jumped up, but he wasn't about to ask. Even he could admit that some things were truly better left unknown.

"The food is all very good," he said, hoping to derail Eimi's train of thought. "Thank you very much."

Eimi stared at him for a long moment, then picked up a slice of bread. "Hm. Well, I'm glad you like it. If I had known you were coming, I would have made something more substantial. I tend to eat lightly when it's just me."

"To compensate for the feasts when someone comes over?" Koushiro reasoned. Eimi flashed a reluctant smile.

"Something like that."

"Well, regardless, this is perfect. It's been so long since I've been over, I've forgotten how pleasant your cooking is." Eimi's culinary work was simple, but performed with care and pain-staking attention to detail, a result of her background in science. She approached preparing a meal with the same precision that she applied to performing a dangerous experiment with a volatile compound, and, in both cases, this was evident in her results.

She made an uncomfortable sound, and Koushiro realized that he had stumbled onto his reason for visiting. Although he hated to put her in a compromising situation right after she prepared dinner for him, he knew that bringing up the topic purposefully would be difficult and awkward for him. It was better to run with this opportunity.

"Have I somehow offended you?" he asked. "I've been trying to maintain contact with you, but you've added more and more space to returning calls and emails."

Eimi tilted her head down, and the angle, coupled with the length of her hair, hid her expression. Her hand toyed with her spoon, and it clinked repeatedly against the china. "I… Production for my fourth CD has been… It's taken up a lot of time. I went on tour to promote it, and I did a lot of TV appearances." She sighed and drew herself back, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples. "It's been exhausting."

"Yes," Koushiro said, staring down into his bowl. "I saw that on your site. You've done quite a few local shows, as well." There was a long pause, and it was so heavy that Koushiro knew Eimi was anticipating his next comment. The words seemed to burn his throat on the way up, like acid reflux. "I would have liked to attend some of them."

There was no cruelty in the statement, and he delivered it as softly as he could, but Eimi still seemed to crumble. Her teeth began to work her lower lip, rapidly darkening its color. Her hands began to twitch about, now busying themselves with buttering a slice of bread that she then dumped absently into her soup.

_I feel like a brute. _Koushiro rarely initiated confrontation, and he wasn't sure how to behave. It troubled him to see Eimi growing upset at his words, but what could he do? He wanted to mend the rift that had inexplicably appeared between the two of them. Somewhere along the line, their friendship had become more valuable to him than he ever could have anticipated.

But Eimi wasn't answering, and Koushiro steeled himself for another attempt. "May I ask why you're suddenly traveling and promoting yourself so eagerly?"

Eimi was staring at her drink, and Koushiro wondered if she was wishing for something stronger. She took a long swig and licked her lips, then sat it down with a shaky _clink_. "There were a lot of places in Europe that I wanted to see. Italy, France, England, Germany… Ireland, _stars_, Ireland… I actually walked down the Forum Romanum, if you can believe it. I spent some time in Paris with Taichi- he sure seems to get sent to France a lot- and… Uh, well, basically, free travel. Well, except I performed a lot."

It sounded reasonable enough on the surface, but something about the way Eimi's glance jumped around the room signaled that it wasn't the whole truth. "And the television appearances?" he prompted.

"That would be my manager's idea," she said, and the blunt delivery marked this much as sincere. "I don't really like them. Every once in a while, I'll get an interviewer who is a lot of fun, but I spend most of them wondering why I'm there. It all feels like deja vu, you know, the same questions, the same quick performance… And it seems so strange to me that people want to hear me talk. I'm a singer, not a speaker." She shrugged and took a bite of her salad. "Seems to be helping spread awareness about my CDs, though. It's definitely boosted sales, and you know how happy that makes my manager and producers."

Koushiro twirled his wine glass, then finished the rest. Eimi rose, returned to the bar for the bottle, then poured him some more. "Thank you. While I can see the wisdom of ensuring the continued success of your musical career, I would hate to see you begin to dislike it because of the promotional work and touring. I know it isn't my place to say so, but I hope you can continue to focus on the aspects of your job that you truly enjoy: the song writing and the small, intimate, local performances."

Eimi offered him a shaky smile. "Yes. You're right. But… As much as I love it here, I've hung around my house for the last five years. It was time for a change of scenery. I got a lot of ideas while I was traveling. Sometimes, even the cadences of a foreign accent can make me hear music."

Koushiro nodded, and they spent a few minutes engaged in eating. He hesitated over whether he should still pursue his questioning. Eimi hadn't really answered anything yet, and Koushiro had no way of knowing if she would go right back to ignoring him as soon as he left. And that wasn't exactly heartening.

_There's no help for it. As much as I hate to continue pestering her, I have to keep going. _"At the risk of being rude… You still could have returned my calls, Eimi-san. Or accepted my Skype chat requests. The world isn't nearly so large these days. There's no reason for any two people to fall out of contact, regardless of the distance." He set his utensils down, intertwined his fingers, and fixed her with a serious expression, never realizing that it was the same one he often gave students who were in danger of failing his classes. "If there's some reason for your withdrawal that you truly feel you can't discuss with me… Well, I can't say that I like it, but I'll try to understand. But I do need to know if you're going to continue cutting me off. If you don't wish to associate with me anymore, it… It's better to have that out in the open. That way, I won't waste my time trying to contact you, and you won't be pestered by my attempts."

Eimi closed her eyes, leaned back in her chair, and took a deep, shuddering breath. There seemed to be a weight pressing down on her shoulders, and she rubbed at them, grimacing all the while. When she finally spoke, the words all tumbled together in a rush. "I really didn't want… I missed you, Koushiro-kun. I really did. There was so much I wanted to tell you. I… I picked up some things for you while I was in the German Museum of Technology in Berlin. Uh, some of the books are in German, but the pictures are nice. There's some stuff from the Cambridge Museum of Technology, too, that's all in English. Tachikawa-san's been helping you with your English, right?"

It was rude, he knew, but Koushiro couldn't help but stare. Eimi was tearing up before his eyes, pulling her body inward around her core. "I'm sorry, but this doesn't make any sense, Eimi-san. You purposefully avoided me, then visited museums specifically to pick up souvenirs for me?" He reached across the table, offering a rare invitation of physical contact. His fingers curved into a beckoning motion, but she ignored them. It was surprisingly hurtful, but Koushiro forced himself not to pull his hand back. "Please. What is this about? I must have done something. Don't feel anxious about hurting my feelings. I need to know, so that we can clear this up."

Eimi shook her head, then quickly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, as if hoping that speed would make the gesture less noticeable. "I, I… Of course you didn't do anything. You're a perfect gentleman, at least when you decide to pay attention to someone. This was all on me, but… Please. It's personal. I don't want to talk about it."

"To my knowledge, you haven't pulled away from anyone else. If the issue is personal, then why do you seem to be taking it out on our relationship?" He flexed his fingers, trying to attract her attention to his hand. Koushiro couldn't say why, but it seemed of utmost importance that she touch him, as if that gesture would bridge the gap between them, repairing some of the damage.

It was obvious that she noticed what he was doing. Her teeth sank into her lower lip as she considered it, tipping her head to the side all the while. Slowly, she sat down her spoon, then reached over the table. Her hand landed, softly and uncertainly, on his palm, and he immediately wrapped his fingers around it. She was clammy, and her hand trembled on contact with his. Still, some of the tension fled from Koushiro's chest, and he bent over the table, dipping his head in an unintentional bow. _If we can still be close, if we can still touch each other, then perhaps the rest will fall into place._

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice shaking. "To be honest, when I went on tour, I fell out of frequent contact with everyone."

Koushiro's furrowed his brow, his displeasure taking over his facial muscles. "Eimi-san, respectfully… You're _not_ being honest with me. I would have heard from Taichi-san if you had cut him off." _And there would have been much swearing and growling involved_.

"I didn't say I _abandoned_ contact with everyone. I just cut back a lot. Mostly I did all of my calling when I was traveling between countries, and I was silent otherwise. Taichi gave me grief over it, and so did Yamato, to a lesser degree." She offered him a tiny grin. "Takeru didn't _say_ anything, but he sent me a very pointed poem about a sailor who neglected to write home." A tiny snort slipped out of Koushiro. He didn't even want to imagine how over-the-top that bit of writing must have been. "But everyone… _tried_ to be understanding."

Koushiro stared into his soup for a long moment, as if the empty bowl contained secrets that would help him make sense of Eimi's strange behavior. "Let me get you some more," she said, hurriedly standing up. Koushiro figured that he should protest, but he _did _want more, and so he watched her fill both of their bowls.

When she returned, he was careful to make contact with her again, as if to emphasize that he was here, and that he very much desired to reconnect with her. "You only called me once," he said, trying to keep the accusation out of his voice.

Eimi blinked down at him, then tipped her head. "I'm sorry, Koushiro-kun, but… To be fair… Well, you only called _me _once. I returned the call. I didn't accept the Skype invitations because I wasn't at the computer for long enough periods to talk."

For a moment, all he could do was stare. Then, he crossed his arms and closed himself off to think, trying to ignore the smell of fresh soup in front of him. After a few moments, he had to admit that she was correct. She had returned all of his texts, emails, and the one call. The replies were simply brief and polite, and didn't exactly invite or inspire further communication.

"Well… P-perhaps," he allowed, ignoring the fact that the correct answer was, 'wow, you're right, and I feel like an ass.' "But- normally- Normally your correspondence is so _eager_. You usually maintain such enthusiastic contact with me." Swallowing hard, he realized that he had taken his sweet time about getting truly concerned about the matter, too. He really should have made some sort of inquiry months ago.

"I'm sorry, Koushiro-kun. I should have been better about it. I know that. But, please believe me… I was really busy while I was touring and working on my CD, and dealing with some other things."

Koushiro produced a noncommittal grunt, then began to eat again, trying to work through his thoughts. Eimi mimicked him, and all was quiet for a while. _I still feel like there's something strange that she's not telling me, but I suppose that if she truly feels that she can't speak about this, it would be unwise to force her. Especially in light of the fact that our lapse in contact was partially my own doing. I never really realized how much more effort she put into maintaining our relationship than I did._

Which only added guilt to his stew of uncomfortable emotions. Eimi sighed across the table, and it passed to him like a yawn.

"I, I'm glad you're home," he said at last, forcing the words out. It wasn't like him to speak sentimentally, but he figured he owed her that truth, especially after complaining so much about something that he had contributed to.

There was suddenly something aching in her eyes, and Koushiro inched closer, wondering how he could have upset her. Her teeth passed over her lips before she answered. "I missed it more than I thought I would."

She looked away, and Koushiro awkwardly turned the conversation to her travels. All Koushiro really digested was the lightening of her tone as she spoke. He was too engrossed in trying to make sense of things to absorb the words.

Something was hurting her, but she wouldn't tell him, wouldn't even let him try to help. He kept trying to think of a way to get her talking about what mattered, but she danced around every attempt through dinner, through the cleanup, and through the beginning stages of baking. Finally, exhausted and heart sore, Koushiro fell onto the armchair beside Aegis' dog bed, brooding while Eimi chattered in a bright tone that he knew he couldn't trust.

_Mimi is _not_ going to be pleased with my progress, _he thought with a sigh.

**Author's note: **Ah man, I feel strained just reading this thing! I'm not sure if it's because the writing needs more retooling, or if it's just because… there's a lot of tension here.

Part two is much more telling (especially for those of you who wanted to hear more about the whole Jyou/Eimi thing), and it will be up… Next Sunday? I might post earlier, but it depends on how much writing I can get done.

Thanks for reading, my darlings.


	5. Tension, Pt 2

Tension, Part Two

**Cultural Notes:**

**Honorifics: **I'm not going over honorifics in depth, but I do want to make sure one thing is clear. When characters address people by their last name, it suggests a more distant relationship. Koushiro calls Jyou and Mimi by name, with no honorific, which means that he is very close to them (especially since it's Koushiro speaking, haha!). He uses 'san' with Taichi, Yamato, and Eimi, which would be a little distant for most, but, for Koushiro, means that they are close. But he calls Sora 'Takenouchi-san,' which suggests that he hasn't spent much time with her. Similarly, Eimi calls Mimi 'Tachikawa-san,' because they've only met in person a few times, and she doesn't feel that close to her yet. But Mimi calls Eimi 'Eimi-chan,' so she would probably be annoyed at Eimi suggesting that level of distance between them.

That was kind of… long and circuitous. Basically, honorifics create lots of layers and information, I'm just trying to explain that XD

Tension,_ n_: In music, tension is the perceived need for relaxation or release created by a listener's expectations.

**Present**

Koushiro, Eimi, and Aegis headed to the living room after dinner and dessert. Koushiro sat in a cushy armchair, engrossed with the latest _Nature. _Eimi was strumming her guitar and staring off into space, her eyes unfocused. She took up half of the couch, sprawled over its deep cushions, and Aegis filled the rest. Although Koushiro enjoyed talking to Eimi, he was glad that she was willing to sink into separate pursuits. His nerves were still wrung out from his failure to make sense of their dinner conversation.

Eventually, he happened to glance up as he turned a page, and his eyes landed on Eimi's. His brow rose automatically. _Why is she staring at me? How long has she been at it?_ When she failed to look away, he lowered the magazine and picked up his coffee, inviting her to speak.

"How's Tachikawa-san?" she asked. There was an odd, subdued feeling to her tone, suggesting that they had been transported to a library.

Koushiro's heart grew a little heavier at the thought of Mimi. There had been a time when he enjoyed this question, when speaking about her lightened his mood, but now, it only reminded him of how much he missed her. "She seems well. The last I heard, she's in Bora Bora."

"Bora Bora?! Stars! _Lucky_! I've only ever seen pictures, but it looks like paradise. She must be happy."

"Mm." Koushiro's eyes flicked towards his magazine, deeply wishing to return their efforts there. A finger stroked the glossy surface of the cover, then flicked the edges of the pages, not unlike how Eimi's digits were working her guitar's strings.

The music stopped abruptly, and Koushiro looked at his hostess without thinking. Her head was tipped, the angle suggesting uncertainty. "Um- Is something the matter, Koushiro-kun?"

_Ah. I've forgotten how empathetic she can be._ His impulse was to lie and assure her that all was well, but he couldn't seem to manage it. For one, it was difficult to lie to Eimi's face. He couldn't describe it well, but her eyes seemed to ache with concern for him, more and more so as the seconds ticked by. Repaying that depth of caring with dishonesty felt very underhanded.

What was more, Koushiro had been storing up so many doubts inside of him for so long, they seemed ready to overflow, pushing outward at on his capacity to endure. And he knew from Taichi that Eimi was a patient listener who offered thoughtful advice.

"I... If you're willing," he said, his voice tightening with uncertainty, "I think... I could use a kind ear, Eimi-san."

Eimi pinned him down with one of her uncomfortable, unearthly stares, and Koushiro felt goosebumps ripple over him, rising and falling within the space of a heartbeat. Then she stood, sat her guitar on a stand, and made a shooing motion towards Aegis. The dog trudged to the cushion beside Koushiro's chair. Taking the hint, Koushiro stood and sat beside Eimi, taking his mug with him.

"Umm…" he trailed. The question he wanted to ask wouldn't be welcome, he was sure, but his desire for information forced it out. "How... Do you mind if I ask you why you broke up with Jyou, all those years ago?"

Eimi's cup jerked in her hand as she drank, and a blob of whipped cream ended up on the tip of her nose. She hastily swallowed, coughed, and reached for a tissue, then wiped away the smear of white.

"Um? What does that have to do with anything?" she asked. Koushiro sighed and nodded, allowing the validity of the question.

"I apologize. I know it seems random, and I'm aware that the question may be inappropriate. But I asked because I believe it might apply to my current situation. You are, of course, free not to answer, and, should you decide to do so, you have my word that I won't repeat anything."

She stared at him for another long, uncomfortable moment, and Koushiro ended up drinking in a desperate attempt to break eye contact. "You're not... You _couldn't be_ thinking about breaking up with Tachikawa-san… are you?"

Koushiro's eyes shut of their own accord, pinching together so tightly that the pressure hurt his eyeballs. There it was- that dangerous, impossible thought, fully formed and realized, spoken aloud for the first time. "Y-yes," he managed, his throat aching around the word. "_No_. Perhaps. I don't- I can't say for certain. All I'm sure of is that I'm currently unhappy with our relationship. I can't seem to determine whether my grievances are strong enough to merit taking that step. I keep hoping that something will change, that we can somehow make it work, but-" His hands gripped the ceramic mug so hard that the heat from the liquid within began to burn them. Sighing deeply, he placed it on the coffee table, dropping it squarely on a coaster shaped like a bird cage.

More staring. More silence. Trembling hands reached for him, closing around one of his feet. "I'm not sure I understand. I'm not sure you're in your right mind. But… If it will help you, I'll tell you anything."

Eimi sighed, closed her eyes, and leaned back into the couch. She was silent and still for a long time, but Koushiro waited, knowing that she was sorting out her thoughts.

"The first thing you should know," she began at last, "is that I love him, even now. It's not… We're not in a relationship, obviously. Our lives are separate, and we rarely meet in person these days. I'm not _in _love with him. But…" A fingernail began to tap against the mug, making a ceaseless clicking noise. "I love him. Sometimes, I admit, in the past… the distinction has been… _tenuous_."

"Tenuous?" Eimi colored instantly, and Koushiro wished he could swallow his interruption. Unfortunately, Koushiro's mind was reeling too much for him to salvage the conversation.

_The two of them are so straight-laced...! Who could have guessed that they would… Well… I suppose everyone truly has their dirty little secrets. _While Koushiro wasn't interested in passing judgment on them, he _was_ interested in the details. Curiosity surged through him, and he had to force down a dozen questions.

Eimi stared at Aegis with an intensity suggesting that she had never seen a dog before. Then, suddenly, words began to pour out, sounding like a babbling stream. "I still like and respect him so much. But- ah- even so- things haven't been… _tenuous_… for over a year. And, I mean, there really aren't that many people I personally like and care about, and most of them aren't…" She blinked at him, cleared her throat, and started over. "I, I keep trying to meet new people, but it seems like every attempt discourages me more and more… I had more or less given up, when…" Her mouth snapped shut, and she shook her head, like a listener whose attention had drifted away.

_What on earth is she trying to say? _Koushiro was doing his best not to interrupt. Instinct made him wonder if the reason for Eimi's withdrawal was buried somewhere in this mess, if only because of the way she was coloring, stuttering, and twitching.

"I'm sorry. I'm…" She laughed nervously. "Stars, I'm _really_ getting off topic. What I'm trying to explain is that Jyou and I never had a falling out. We never stopped caring about each other."

The words stopped abruptly, and it finally seemed safe to interject. Koushiro had to clear his throat a few times before he trusted himself to speak. "Then, if you don't mind my asking… Why did you part ways?"

Eimi sighed, sat her mug beside his, then bent over. Her hands drifted along the row of books on the shelf built into the bottom of the coffee table. She selected one and pulled it free, then worried the pages with her fingers, flipping through them with no apparent goal.

"Opposites attract," she said at last, speaking into the open book. Her tone was odd, almost tart, and it was clear that she was unimpressed with her own words. "People love to throw that phrase around, as if it explains everything about human sexuality and relationships. I guess I'm not much of a judge, but it seems like, more often than not, they're trying to justify pursuing someone who doesn't actually suit them. But, on the other hand… If two people are too alike, there can be problems. And that's what happened with Jyou and me."

Eimi paused and turned a page, her brow furrowing. Tilting his head slightly, Koushiro observed that the book was an English copy of _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland._

_An interesting choice. There certainly is an air of the surreal in the room at the moment._

She flipped to the chapter on the mad tea party and ran a finger down an illustration of a long, rectangular table. "In some ways, we were perfect for each other. We were obsessed with our grades, and we spent hours bent over textbooks together. Even if we weren't speaking, the nearness was such a relief. We did everything together: classes, labs, homework, and everyday stuff, like eating and bathing. We more or less agreed about everything. No fighting, no hurt feelings, no drama, despite the fact that we were both in our first relationship. The other science students seemed to think we were the perfect couple, always at the top of the class, always side-by-side."

She paused again, filling the void by flipping more pages. Her teeth sank deeply into her lower lip as the story passed before her eyes in image form. Sensing her discomfort, Koushiro shifted closer. _Why is she growing upset, if their time together seems to have been mostly positive? Is it because she misses him? _"I apologize, Eimi-san, but, from what you're saying so far, it does sound as though you were a good couple. I often find myself wishing that Mimi and I had more in common."

"The problem was that we're both so neurotic. When one of us got worried, or voiced some crazy, paranoid concern, the other would get sucked into the freaking out. Neither of us ever tried to calm the other down. Well, except that if I said I was worried about a certain test, Jyou would say that I would be fine, and _he_ was the one in trouble, and then we would both end up in this competitive positive feedback loop of nerves." She shook her head and offered him a rueful smile. "It probably sounds pretty silly, and, at first, I think we sort of amused each other with it. But, over time, it just wore us down more and more. We really needed someone who would tell us when we were being ridiculous, who would steal the textbooks when we closed ourselves off with them for hours on end."

"I see," Koushiro murmured, "You enabled each other, instead." Koushiro had never thought about it, but he could imagine Jyou and Eimi egging each other towards new and uncharted peaks of neuroticism. Eimi was calmer and steadier than Jyou, in general, but had a much harder time letting go of something once it snuck under her skin. With Jyou implanting paranoid suggestions, and Eimi bringing them back up, the situation could degrade rapidly.

"Yes," she whispered, running her fingers along her forehead. "One day, we were in bed together, trying to sleep… And he was nervous about something ridiculous, I can't remember what. Somehow, even though whatever it was didn't apply to me at all, I found myself sobbing- you have to understand, this was inconsolable, desperate sobbing- over the possibility of it happening. I was so stressed out all the time, I was worried about everything, always. And, when I started crying like that, somehow I knew. I just _knew_. As much as I cared about him, as much as I admired and respected and loved him… I just couldn't be his other half. It just wasn't me."

Koushiro nodded, then took another long drink to spare himself from replying. There was something overwhelming about what she had said, and he could feel the words eating at him, creating a strange, unsettling pressure in his gut. Perhaps he was visibly distraught, because Eimi shifted closer, placed her hand on his foot, and squeezed.

"I'm sorry, Koushiro-kun. Is that… Is that the problem with Tachikawa-san? Should I not have said what I said?" Her fingers worked his foot, and it might have felt good if the movements weren't so twitchy.

Koushiro patted her hand, hoping to reassure. "Please don't apologize for answering my intrusive questions." He licked his lips, feeling more and more trapped by the second. He had her answers, given generously, selflessly, with no attention paid to the pain it caused her. There was nothing for it now but to talk about himself.

"I don't have so succinct an answer for why things aren't ideal with Mimi," he admitted, running a hand absently through his hair. Even that reminded him of her; before he met her, he kept his hair so short that it ended in rough spikes. It was much longer now, as she preferred it that way, and it laid smoothly on his head, except for the few places where cowlicks pulled it away from his skull.

"I've had a lot of time to think." Eimi offered him a tiny, fragile smile, and Koushiro struggled to return it. Why was it that she seemed so brave to him right now? She was just sitting there, flipping through a book. "Clarity is often born of time and distance, not flashes of cleverness or understanding."

He nodded, accepting her excuse on his behalf. It didn't sit well with him, as he preferred reasoning through things and finding conclusions in the present. But, after nearly thirty years of life, even Koushiro had to admit that some things were beyond the powers of logic.

There was a long pause, but Eimi made no comment. She waited patiently, turning her eyes to the words of Lewis Carrol in the interim. By the time he finally gathered his thoughts and his courage, she was fairly engrossed in the story, and she jumped when he spoke. "I began dating Mimi about three years ago. In a way, I almost… fell into the arrangement. We only met briefly, but, for some reason, I seemed to strike a chord with her. She bullied my number out of Yamato-san through Takenouchi-san, and she called me frequently. It was strange and unsettling for me, at first, but… What can I say? Mimi has a way of getting what she wants, and I continued to pick up her calls, despite my confusion and misgivings. When she asked me if I would like to try a long distance relationship, I agreed easily enough. In retrospect, it was callous of me, but… Mostly, I was curious. I didn't understand why so lovely a woman was interested in me, and I had very little experience with females in general. I wanted to see what would happen if I said yes."

He paused and looked over at Eimi, partially grimacing in anticipation of her reaction. Her eyes were wide, but he didn't detect any judgment in her features. Somewhat reassured, he relaxed and continued. "The arrangement was serendipitous for me. I was able to learn about romance through the buffer of distance. Mimi had very little reason to complain about my tendency to put my work above my relationships, since she was busy, as well. I slowly began to find that I enjoyed devoting some time to idle chatter. It was oddly relaxing, taking a moment to simply listen, and to speak. I found myself looking forward to her calls."

A slow, even breath slipped out of him, and he closed his eyes and leaned back into the cushy sofa. "I can't say when or why I began to develop real affection for her. But, by the time I next saw her in person, I had told her more about my thoughts and my feelings than I had ever told anyone else, and… I was much more prepared to begin learning about the physical aspects of a romantic relationship than I ever could have expected. I- Are you alright, Eimi-san?"

She had dropped the book, and the movement drew Koushiro's eyes to hers. Although she hadn't made a sound during his speech, there were traces of wetness on her cheeks. _She's crying. Why is she crying? _

"Oh, ignore me," she said, producing a wet laugh. "It's just, all this emotional stuff… You know how it is. You're looking at a woman who tears up when the donation ad for the children's hospital runs." She picked up the book, wiped her eyes, and made a twirling hand motion that said, _go on, go on. _

Koushiro had his misgivings, but he hardly had enough emotional strength for himself at the moment. All he could do was take her words at face value. "I apologize for putting you in this situation. Thank you for your kind attention." She acknowledged with a nod and a faint smile, so he cleared his throat and dove back in.

"There was very little tension for the first year or so. It wasn't until we were had worn out the topics of our pasts, our world views, and other aspects of our personal lives that it grew apparent that we truly had very little in common. I know this is a terrible thing to admit, but… I can't summon up an interest in clothing, makeup, and modeling. And, quite fairly, Mimi also cannot create a passion for programming, technology, and science. Of course, our interests aren't all that we are, and we've gotten this far on simply having affection for one another. But… I see other couples doing things together, having animated discussions about the things they do at work, and I wonder if I'm missing out."

"I can see where you're coming from," Eimi allowed, not looking up from her book, "but I'm not sure if that's enough reason to end a relationship."

"It wouldn't be a very good one, I suppose, not on its own."

A crinkle of paper sounded as Eimi flipped a page. "That's not all, then."

"I'm afraid not. As I said, when the relationship began, I wasn't thinking about the future. I was merely accepting an opportunity. I didn't have any expectations. But, now… I respect her. I care for her."

And here it was, the stumbling point, the thought that made him question his value as a person. His head dropped back, sinking into a cushion. His eyes pinched shut, and his breathing was suddenly audible. For a moment, he was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he forgot about Eimi, and he twitched when her hand landed on his foot.

"Are you okay?" she asked, leaning closer. The book, Koushiro noticed, was closed on her lap.

"Yes." Without thinking, he wrapped his hand around hers, not realizing that the touch betrayed the dishonesty of his reply. "I hope you won't think less of me," he said quietly, tilting his head closer to her. "I've never expressed this thought to someone before, and I'm aware that it has the power to… To change how you might see me."

Her faint exhalation held the ghost of amusement, and Koushiro gave her a baffled look. "Trust me," she said, smiling softly. "That's not a danger with me. You're safe here, Koushiro-kun."

His grip on her tightened automatically. He grimaced and looked away. Something in him fully expected that he was about to lose Eimi's regard, and he had to force the words out. "T-thank you. I love Mimi, and yet… I can't give up my career for her. It's… It's something that I just cannot do."

There was a long pause, and Koushiro fought against the moment when he would look at Eimi and see disgust or disappointment. But he couldn't stand the tension for long, and his eyes locked on hers of their own accord.

She looked confused, and Koushiro wondered if she was convincing herself that she had misheard him. "Is, is that all?" Eimi asked, tilting her head. He nodded, baffled by the relieved smile breaking across her face. "I can understand that. I was all prepped to hear you say something really bad!"

Koushiro blinked at her a few times, unable to process her response. "Aren't you going to scold me for my skewed priorities? Shouldn't the woman I love come before anything else?" He held his hands out to her, as if he were trying to show her a baseball bat, and she was telling him it was a soccer ball.

"Some people do seem to think that's how love works," Eimi said, drumming her fingers over the cover of her book. "And, honestly, I'm guilty of practicing that, myself. When I love someone, I can lose myself to them, to the point where I'll hurt myself over some trivial thing that they want." A muscle twitched in her cheek, and she averted her eyes. "And you don't want to know what I'll put myself through for something they need. It's unhealthy, Koushiro-kun. I know I should change, and I've been trying, and it has been getting better, but it's so intrinsic." Her arms wrapped around her stomach and pressed in. "But the reality is that there's only one person that you spend your entire life with. That's _you_. If you're not happy, if you completely give up some integral part of yourself, then you don't have anything to offer your partner anymore. You're incomplete. It's not fair to you. It's not fair to them. Suddenly, neither of you will be happy."

"Eimi-san…" Koushiro wasn't sure if she was right or not, but there was so much comfort in being assured, for the first time, that he wasn't being completely selfish and heartless in this. He hardly knew how to absorb it. "Thank you." A hand raised to his temples, rubbing at the pain there, willing the burning in his eyes to subside. "You can probably guess the difficulties I'm referencing now. Mimi is very career oriented. She loves modeling, traveling, attending parties, and doing photoshoots. Being a celebrity sits well with her. It provides her with fulfillment and happiness, and I would never try to take that away from her. But, on the same token, I am also career oriented. Furthermore, my dislike of frequent travel, social events, and the attention that results from fame is equal to Mimi's enjoyment of those very things. And she seems to think that, because most of my work is done in front of a computer, I should be able to follow her around and program while we're traveling, and while she's working."

"Koushiro-kun- but- your students-" Heavy disapproval was evident in Eimi's scowl. Koushiro lifted a hand, hoping to stem her flow of words. He realized now that he had worded things in a way that framed Mimi in a harsher light than he had intended.

"She knows and respects that they're important to me. And she knows that I enjoy living so close to an academic community. She's doing all she can to be patient and accommodating about it."

Eimi still looked a little frustrated, but the worst of it had faded away. A pale, calloused finger tapped thoughtfully against her chin. "So, basically, you're saying that you're at an impasse."

"Precisely." Koushiro ran a palm down his face. He was aware that, if Taichi were here, there would be much cursing involved on his behalf, and he almost wished for it. The obvious concern and commiseration on Eimi's face was supportive and welcome, but he could use some humor at the moment, or at least some ridiculous behavior to distract him from his misery. _Stop that. She's offering you a safe place to speak, and withholding judgment. That should be more than enough for anyone._

"A temporary impasse wouldn't be so terrible," he continued. "If one of us could promise the other that, in two or three years, things would be different, then we could wait it out, despite the difficulties. However… There's simply no visible end point. Mimi is going to be gorgeous and vibrant for a long, long time to come."

"And you'll be antisocial and nerdy until you keel over," Eimi said, offering him a hopeful little grin.

_Good God. How did she know I needed a joke, albeit a weak one? _Somehow, Koushiro dredged up an answering smile, although he could feel his facial muscles protesting the upward movement. "Too true, I'm afraid."

"I'm not," Eimi said, patting his foot again. "Don't change, Koushiro-kun. Not for anyone." Then she colored and shifted awkwardly, retreating to the very corner of the sofa. "I mean… I don't mean to be domineering."

Koushiro smiled in truth this time, charmed by her mixture of bossiness, affection, and meekness. "I understand. Thank you."

They were silent for a time, and then Eimi released a breath in a long, hissing sound. "So, uh… Is there anything else bothering you? With Tachikawa-san? If you don't mind my asking."

"Well…" Koushiro took another sip of coffee, but it had gone too cold for his liking. He didn't really want to keep talking, but it seemed strange to back out at this point. "There was a point where the physical distance between us was welcome. But now that I've grown so fond of her, and now that I'm comfortable with intimacy, I often find that… I'm not so eager to be alone as I once was."

Eimi's eyes drifted shut, and her upper body collapsed against the back of the sofa. "I know _exactly_ what you mean," she murmured.

_Ah, of course. She's also a fan of solitude, to the point where she built this home practically in the middle of no where. _"When did we change?" Koushiro asked, turning his eyes to the ceiling. "I can only imagine that you were also once perfectly happy to pass the days on your own."

"Mmm," Eimi agreed. She picked up a throw pillow and hugged it against her chest, resting her chin along its edge. "I guess, once you reach a certain age, some of your tolerance for being alone dries up. Maybe we're sensing that there's really not all that much time left to make families, if that's what we want to do?"

"Or perhaps we're aware that the time when we can be absolutely certain of our physical ability to be independent is not infinite."

Eimi sighed theatrically. "Ah, the woes of growing in wisdom! The curse of the lessons of time! How happy are the days of youth and ignorance!"

And, for a moment, Koushiro could almost see and hear Takeru sitting across from him. The flamboyant hand motions were the only missing components in the picture. He smiled, then chuckled, then laughed, tipping his head back. "You sound _ridiculous_," he managed at last.

"Hmm. I was going for enlightened. I guess I must be getting tired." She reached for the phone on the coffee table, then touched its display. "Oh, wow! No wonder! Ten thirty is totally bedtime for me. When did it get so late? I guess we were sitting here for longer than I thought."

"Oh?" Koushiro echoed, raising a brow. As was typical of programmers, he was a night owl. Despite having early classes to teach, he usually went to bed between one and two in the morning. It was probably unwise to sleep so little, but caffeine overcame the deficit, and he seemed to naturally require less rest than the next person. Perhaps it had to do with spending so much time sitting down, even when he was awake.

"Yep. Would you mind if I went to sleep? Obviously, you're free to read or use anything. And the guest rooms are always ready, so no worries there. I can get you some more coffee now, if you'd like. Is there anything else you'd need?"

"I've stayed here before," Koushiro reminded her. "I know where everything is. Please, if you're tired, get some rest. Don't trouble yourself over me."

Eimi stretched out, making a squeaking sound as her back reached its greatest arch. "Mmmkay. Thanks." She stood, put her book away, and made a hand motion to her dog. "I'll be right back in. I need to take Aegis out."

"Mm-hmm." Koushiro was already making his way towards the scientific journal that he had set aside earlier. By the time Eimi returned, he was so engrossed in it that he almost failed to notice her saying goodnight to him. If she hadn't tapped his shoulder, he probably would have missed it entirely.

"Good night," he said, returning her sentiment. She smiled and stepped towards the hallway, with Aegis at her heels. Koushiro hesitated, but he knew he had to say something about what had passed between them. "And… Thank you, Eimi-san. Your counsel is most appreciated."

She paused, and her hand moved about, finally landing on her dog's head. "Koushiro-kun… Your difficulties with Tachikawa-san… I don't know how, but I know that the two of you can work it out. You're both such wonderful, talented people… Things may look bad sometimes, but I'm sure you'll get through it."

Koushiro wasn't entirely sure that he agreed, but, for a moment, he allowed himself to. "Yes. Yes. I… Thank you."

"Any time." Eimi led her dog down the hall and disappeared up the stairs.

Koushiro stared at the article for a long time, but he later found that he couldn't recall anything about it.

**Shortly After**

Aegis followed the lady to their den. He waited at the foot of the bed while she pulled back the draping material surrounding it, then hopped through the opening. He turned about a few times, then sat. His eyes followed the lady as she moved about, removing one fur and donning another, washing her teeth, grooming her hair.

"Good night, Aegis." The lady scratched him behind the ears, and he leaned into her touch, eager for the contact. She pressed her lips to his forehead, then scooted towards the head of the bed. She touched the little sun, and it went off, plunging the den into night.

Night meant sleep. Aegis yawned, then curled up at the foot of the bed. Lady let him share her sleeping space, but only if he stayed on the edge of it. It annoyed him sometimes, but the lady was the alpha. Her word was law, and he obeyed. He was just happy to be beta. The other humans who visited didn't have this privilege. That meant that he was special, and he was glad to always be near enough to defend her, should the need arise.

For a while, all was quiet, and Aegis drifted towards sleep, his ears pricked for any signs of trouble. They began to pick up a strange, high pitched sound. It played at Aegis's memory, reminding him of his weaker litter mates whining for milk at his bitch's stomach. He turned his head about in confusion, searching for the source. There were no pups here, at least not that he could smell.

Unease had him standing, had him preparing his muscles for action. There was a strange smell in the room, a distress smell, one that he rarely encountered. After some consideration, Aegis concluded that the lady was the only living thing near enough for him to hear so well. But why would the lady make pup sounds? The lady was not a pup. She was the lady, the alpha. Aegis whined, a signal of confusion.

The lady's voice came to him through the darkness, quiet, subdued, and oddly shaky. "Oh, Aegis. I woke you up. I'm sorry." Most of the words were nonsense to Aegis. The lady talked, talked, and talked to him, never seeming to realize that he only understood a few words, the ones he had been taught by his first alpha. He was sure he could understand more, if she would just show him how. It could be frustrating, but mostly he was happy to hear her voice. It was soothing and kind, pleasant for his ears and his heart.

But now, it sounded like hurting. He whined again, desperate for more information on her condition. She told him to come to her, but he couldn't. He wasn't allowed at the head of the bed. His whining increased in speed, volume, and pitch. The desire to obey was undeniable, but so was the desire to never disobey.

The bed shifted as the lady crawled toward him. She settled down beside him, moving the blankets around her. She gave the command for 'lay down,' and he obeyed, dropping himself beside her. He licked her face anxiously, and found that it was wet and salty. That wasn't normal, and he whined some more between licks.

"Shh, Aegis. I'm alright. Just, just…" Her arms wound around him, and she buried her face in his fur. She began to shake, and her sounds grew louder. Aegis didn't know what to do, so he fell back on the 'lay down' command, and stayed exactly where he was.

The lady whined and made his fur wet for a long, long time, but she eventually went silent. The deep breathing and stillness signaled sleep, and Aegis rested his head on her shoulder. There would be plenty of time for sleep tomorrow. The small human was here to watch over the lady in the day.

Aegis pointed his eyes and ears towards the den door and kept watch through the night.

**Author's Note: **Bet you didn't think Aegis would get a perspective scene, eh? Eh?

Okay, but seriously. I would be happy to accept some help with this chapter. I felt like the whole thing (parts one and two) dragged on for two long, given the information revealed, and I'm not at all convinced that I hit the right emotional note. I'm even afraid that it might have been boring, or hard to get through. So, if you could let me know what you guys thought about the pacing and the feeeeelings and the interest level, I would appreciate it a lot.

Thanks for reading! I'm not sure what will be updated next. The 'ol personal life has been a bit crazy lately. Keep an eye out on my tumblr (there's a link in my profile) for more info as I figure it out.

See you next time!


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